Dr Capt Julia H Watson
by Rurple101
Summary: FemaleJohn - Dr Julia Watson moves in with Sherlock Holmes, and finds herself having fun and danger. Can he cope with a feminine touch around his flat or will he fall for her innocent charm and grim past? Sherlock x Fem!John
1. Chapter 1: Introducing Dr Julia Watson

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<br>_

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><p><span>Summary:<span> Basically, this will be a story with one MASSIVE difference; '_John_' is _female_ and slightly different. I apologise if he/she (argh confusing!) are too OCC as this is my first Sherlock fanfiction...and for the record, I cried buckets after the S2 finale, I won't spoil it for peeps who haven't watched it! ;)

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><p><em>CHAPTER : 'Introducing Dr Julia Watson'<em>

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><p>Dr Capt. Julia H. Watson stared aimlessly into her reflection from the highly compensated windows of her hotel room.<p>

As she exhaled, her breath fogged up the glass furthermore and her left hand twitched. As much as she fought it, the urge to click her knuckles grew, until she did so and the sound reverberated around the silent and lonely bedroom.

Flexing said hand, she sighed, heavier this time and her head hung low as she clenched her eyes tightly shut to shut off the almost-constant flow of memories –none of them particular pleasant- and groaned.

Her emerald green eyes flicked open again and she ran her other unaffected hand through her messy and dark sandy brown hair, which was short enough to pass as a boyish look, even when it was tied messily behind her head. Gazing mournfully at her shadow in the glass she noticed that her hair seemed longer than she'd last seen it, when she'd been packing away her things at the base-camp at the front line.

_Stop it,_ she commanded herself, _you need to focus as you won't get across to your stupid cane any faster_ the more you grieve over the stupid imaginary injury her brain had fooled her into thinking she had.

Taking another deep and oxygen fuelled breath; she almost leapt off the bed and stumbled blindly across the mundane beige carpet. Her cane was less than two metres away and she knew that she shouldn't be so pleased that she'd managed _two steps_ without support, when she reached it.

Steadying herself into the pattern of leaning heavily onto the infuriating crutch, she wobbled towards the hotel door, got outside, slamming the cold lonely and desolate landscape behind her…as she should.

It took longer than she wanted to get down the stairs, which only annoyed her further. The lifts were being repaired so they'd been closed. Why did she have to get a room FIVE floors up when the people hiring out for her KNEW she had this condition?

_Probably to help me get used to taking action on my own_, she thought bitterly and for a second she imagined them consulting her brother about recommendations. She snorted so loudly that people in the hotel reception jumped nearly a foot in the air as she passed by.

_Sammy, being spoken to by her superiors? –_ That would SO not happen…and if it had, _well_ she could have done with a laugh, watching him stumble over his words as easily as she had walking without aid.

When did the war make her so bitter?

_When you got shot in the shoulder so you had to come home and return to 'normal' life_, her logical side answered.

Her therapist had requested – Julia felt she was being _child-minded_ rather than treated as a grown adult – that as soon as she'd 'settled into her new lifestyle' that Julia should come and see her.

But Julia had so badly wanted to skip it and never go to her, but her medical side had seen that she hadn't been raised to be rude, grumpy, emotionless and cold-hearted.

_I'll get over it,_ she reasoned with her guilt. _Once I get used to the lifestyle and I get into a_ good – she meant _stable_ – _routine_, she would be ok.

_Let's just hope I don't know out this lady_…she snorted at herself again.

"Thank you for coming to see me Julia. I appreciate that this might be a difficult time for you – Julia scoffed, which 'Ella' ignored – but I know that you will be able to adjust to a healthy and comfortable life back home where you belong."

_How patronising can this woman be?_ Her mental voice screeched.

_Shut up and listen to the doctor, this is her profession, she knows what she is doing!_ – Logic kicked in.

_I'm a doctor as well!_

_You're an army doctor and heal general wounds, she helps you mentally._

The want to snort was so bad that she coughed instead and smiled, _painfully_ at the therapist.

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><p><strong>Author Note(s): Seriously, don't kill me if it irritates you, sorry! ;)<strong>

**THANK YOU - _First Lady Lestat_ for poiting out my mistake with Julia's description! It has been fixed :)  
>- ardx - Julia only has one brother!<br>**


	2. Chapter 2: Meeting Mr Holmes

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<br>_

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><p><em>CHAPTER 2: 'Meeting Mr Holmes'<br>_

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><p>Julia stumbled along the wide concrete path through the park, feeling like an idiot every moment she was on show. She felt so vulnerable, weak and disabled. It was that thought that didn't allow her to recognize one of her old friends from St Bart's until he called her name.<p>

"_Julia_! Dr Watson?" the portly man stated, holding out his hand.

Julia turned and then nodded in acknowledgment and then shook his hand tersely.

"Mike Stafford, from St Barts? _Remember_?" he said happily.

Julia nodded again.

Mike looked down and spotted her cane by her side and the grimaced expression on her face.

"I thought you were in Afghanistan getting shot at?" he asked, all too bluntly.

Julia's body stiffened in indignation but didn't protest, Mike had always been quite blunt and it wasn't his fault she was lacking the adrenaline she needed for her body to work.

"I got shot" she said simply, shrugging her shoulders. But Mike noticed her discomfort.

His look was enough for an apology in her case. "Come on, I got to get back actually, I'm teaching and some days I don't even want to go back!" Mike nattered as Julia purchased a coffee and drank it slowly. They sat down on a park bench somewhat awkwardly and Julia, every now and then, flexed her left fist to resist the tremor.

"How much has it changed in the past six years?" she asked, not really that interested.

_Stop it_, she warned herself.

Mike stood up and watched as Julia shakily got to her feet as well. "Come back with me and I'll show you."

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><p>Twenty minutes later, they were walking into a clean and more modern laboratory than Julia ever remembered. They had some of the old irreplaceable microscopes and trinkets, but mostly the layout had changed dramatically.<p>

"Here we are Julia" Mike said, holding the door open for her. Julia hobbled in, and took one look round.

"Ah, I was correct in analysis, it has changed a bit" Julia stated, feeling quite bored. She really hated how drained her voice was of any emotion; maybe she hoped that Mike would understand that and sympathise with her.

Mike shrugged "It's the same place it was Julia."

She snorted, _when would people stop acting like I was a bomb that might explode?_

_When you show some freakin emotion you stupid bitch,_ her inner monologue thought.

"Mike-" came a voice from the other end of the fancy lab, startling Julia out of her thoughts, prompting her to look over at him. "-can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine."

"What's wrong with landline?"

"I prefer to text" the man replied, seemingly bored.

His voice was baritone, deeply alluring and sensed some of the boredom from everyday life as she held. He wasn't even looking at them, staring intently at something in a dish on the table, almost refusing to look up at them.

Julia sighed quietly as she exhaled, leaning heavily on her cane as she inspected the mysterious man, scanning him like she would do a wounded patient in the middle of a blazing hot desert.

He had very high cheekbones, pale skin and a flattering amount of dark brown floppy curls that didn't stop at his ear but halfway to his shoulders. His eyes weren't on show as he was now inspecting a liquid from another dish.

His figure was tall, lean and thin, looking every part of the runner. On the stool beside him was a long thick black coat-cum-_cloak_, it was so long. On top of the folded coat lay a dark blue and black scarf which was clearly as prized a possession as the long coat.

He was dressed in an _obviously_ personally tailored (yet leading to expensive) suit and wore a white long sleeved shirt underneath (long sleeved, because at the end of his cuffs, they were poking out). His trousers were narrow, fitting elegantly to his legs and his shoes (once again) were expensive looking as they were polished and shining from the lab lights.

As Mike fumbled an excuse that he'd left his phone in his coat, Julia remembered something.

"Here-" she said her voice slightly hoarse which was a dead giveaway to anybody whom noticed that she rarely spoke up. She reached behind and pulled her mobile (kindly donated to her by her brother upon her return) and held it out to the mysterious man. "-Use mine."

The man's tone changed and she knew at once that he was observing her just as she did him. Only she got the impression that he was a lot more accurate than she could have ever have been. "Oh" his charming voice was kind, yet curious. "Thank you."

He walked down the table towards her and Mike introduced me to him before he reached me, arm outstretched and offering the phone to him.

"Old friend of mine, Julia Watson" Mike supplied.

"Mike" I said as the man took the phone and snapped it open to a clear text message. "You said my name when we came in, I think he can remember."

The man looked in curiously to her for a second. "What makes you think I was listening?" His gaze on her face was intense. But she was used to pressure.

Julia raised her chin defiantly. "Your body language changed, and because Mike does tend to shout. When a room has been silent from nothing but ones thoughts, people are more likely to remember the first line to interrupt that silence" she said, slightly confused at his confusion.

He ignored her last answer, or so it seemed. "What was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?"

Julia blinked twice and the looked at him more clearly, searching for hints that detected what he was meaning. When she found none, she said "Sorry?"

She didn't flinch was he took in her appearance in detail as he was now right in front of her. His eyes darted up from her low heeled shoes, and saw her informal yet simple black dress which covered up her cleavage and allowed him to see her collarbone. She knew he'd notice (if he really was a genius) that she'd recently dyed her hair dark brown and that in the sun her hair would have red streaks in it. He'd notice the faint scar below her chin and (hopefully) not see the outline of her shoulder scar where she'd been wounded as her dress had no sleeves and she'd removed her black jacket, slung over one of her arms.

His eyes (now clear for her to read) met hers for a whole second and he repeated his question. Julia noticed how his eyes were a brilliant clear blue and that he was trying to probably read her response before she'd replied herself.

_Ah, another reader_, her thoughts mocked her. _Why not throw a tea party?_

In the pause, Julia looked at her feet and shifted her weight, feeling annoyed that her arm had gone numb whilst leaning on the crutch.

"Afghanistan, but how did-"

The door to the lab opened, interrupting her and a reasonably pretty (younger than her) woman stepped inside and handed the man with her phone a cup of steaming coffee. The man closed Julia's phone and silently returned it, one of his fingers accidently brushing her palm. Julia could have snorted with how soppy it sounded.

"Ah Molly, Coffee, thank you" he said in a lighter tone, and the girl flushed beetroot. Her hair was tied back in a long ponytail, she was wearing a lab coat and her face held some hidden excitement yet dismay when she glanced nervously at Julia. It was obvious that she seemed to be infatuated with him.

"What happened to the lipstick?" the man sounded thoroughly confused and Julia eyed him warily.

"It wasn't working for me" Molly stammered easily and smiled pleasantly at him…_too_ pleasantly to be mere friendly, from her at least.

"Really, I found it a massive improvement, your mouth's too…small now" the man muttered, as he walked away from them, up the lab to his seat at the end and inspected something quickly in the microspore.

Julia smirked; he was poorly flirting with the girl and didn't mean a single word of it. Julia would have found it cruel until she tried to fight her amusement as Molly's face fell tragically, as if she'd been told a death sentence. Bless her.

"Ok" Molly sighed unhappily and walked out of the lab as if not too eager to leave it. Julia watched her go until her head turned at the unknown man's question. "How do you feel about the violin?"

"What?" Julia said in her best military tone, unintentionally.

"I play the violin, often when I'm thinking…sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worse of each other." He seemed to be smirking playfully at _her_ now. But Julia didn't blush at all.

She was clearly stumped and at a loss to what to say. This guy was _brilliant_.

"You told him about me?" Julia rounded on Mike, hands on her hips, and she noticed the flash of worry in Mike's eyes and a snort of laughter from the man in the corner.

"N-Not a word" Mike stammered and Julia narrowed her eyes. "You never changed at all did you Julia?"

Julia stiffened and her hands fell, only just catching and remembering about her clutch.

"Some things remain as influenced as they always did, Mike" Julia said smartly. "I've always been able to make you stammer incoherently. Should I tell this…_dark_ and…_mysterious_ gentlemen about-"

Mike gasped "_No_!" and Julia couldn't help herself and chuckled softly.

"To answer your questions, I do not mind the violin" she said to the man, now dressing in his (she was correct) long and billowing black coat/cloak. He reminded her of Severus Snape from Harry Potter. "…But who said anything about flatmates?"

Turning the collars of his coat up, and with his back to them he replied "I did, I was talking to Mike earlier about how I must be hard to share a flat with. He returns from lunch break with an old friend he hasn't seen in years, clearly back home from military service in Afghanistan – wasn't a difficult leap."

He ended his little speech with a look at her and she scowled at him. She really wanted to punch this brilliantly clever man right round his handsome face.

"How did you know about Afghanistan?" Julia asked, completely composed.

She got no reply, yet again. "Got my eye of a flat in central London, together we ought to afford it-" he was walking past her, checking his mobile for signal she guessed he had in the first place. "- we'll meet there tomorrow evening, seven o'clock. Sorry, must dash, I think I must of left my riding crop in the mortuary."

She heard his expensive shoes on the lino floor as he approached the door. He was making no _common_ sense.

"Is that it?" she snapped, her impatience evading her.

"Is that _what_?" he said, swooping backwards from the door to face the slightly pissed-off-Julia.

Julia exchanged a smirk with Mike behind the man.

"We've only just met, and already we're going to go look at a flat" she said, the words stinging her tongue; this man was inviting and somehow, she felt either intimidated or protected by him…probably both.

The man always looked back at Mike, then back to her. "_Problem_?" he stated, his lips curving upwards at the sides. He was enjoying this.

Julia knew that tone, he was deliberately prompting her to rise to the bait. Julia only half willingly took it.

"We don't know a thing about each other, don't know where we're meeting, I don't even know your _name_!" Julia stated in an equally annoying tone.

The man suddenly became even more mysterious as his eyes narrowed and his tone took on a voice of great knowledge, like she was one of the most un-intelligent women in the world.

"I know you're a military doctor and have recently been invalided in Afghanistan. I know you've got a sister who's worried about you, but I know you won't go to her for help because you don't approve of her, _possibly_ because she's an alcoholic , more likely because she recently divorced her husband. And, I know your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic, quite correctly I'm afraid-"

Julia automatically took a step back to draw his gaze from her leg.

"-It's enough to be going on with, don't you think" the man whispered quietly and then turned to the door, leaving an iritated Julia.

She was about to ask Mike something until the man poked his head round the door.

"The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221b Baker Street" he clicked his lips twice, cheekily at her, and she felt her cheeks grow warm. She couldn't help the small smile that had crept onto her face.

"Afternoon" he said curtly before departing the scene, the door swinging shut behind him.

Julia shook her head in bemusement "That was…spectacularly _brilliant_!" she exclaimed.

Mike chuckled "Yeah, he's _always_ like that."

Julia turned her face away, still blushing as she committed the name Sherlock Holmes to memory.

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><p><strong>AUTHOR NOTES:<br>Julia 'John' is a bit OCC but that's because I wanted to make her sound more bolder and easier to raise to a bait, yet understand that Sherlock only does it for answers. (She isn't like Molly whom has a crush on her, she's just a bit flattered and amazed by Sherlock.)**

** I will update the next chapter over the weekend as I need to re-watch the first episode and there are only clips on Sherlock and I need to write the Mycroft and the other 'scenes'. This story will not be exactly the same but will focus on the major cases for people who like reading the crime part of Sherlock. **

**:) Thanks for any reviews posted, and I am glad to say that I'm confident with this version of Julia. If you don't, please don't ruin my fun as this is a hobby, (if im good at it or not, is a different matter - lol)**

**Rurple101 x :D**


	3. Chapter 3: 221b Baker Street

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<br>_

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><p><em>CHAPTER 3: '221b Baker Street'<em>

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><p>Julia found herself, walking along Baker Street and spotted the sign 221b almost at once the next evening, located next door to a busy café with the header in bright red and white font. She took a deep breath, then started staggering forwards and knocked twice using the knocker on the door.<p>

"_Hello_."

Julia visibly jumped and her hand loosened on her cane for a second, which allowed her to drop it. Julia groaned as she turned around, knowing who it was by his cheeky tone.

Sherlock Holmes was standing behind her (in coat, scarf and a richly attractive purple shirt and suit), hands crossed in front of him and he smirked when he saw her jump. He was also (in the literal sense) checking her out as he inspected the dark blue jeans she wore, the high black leather riding boots that went up to mid-calf, her hair was let down today so her hair was twice as long and hadn't been properly straightened so it was slightly curly as it naturally went.

She wore a black leather jacket and a bright red top underneath. Yet she still held that professional doctor aura as she normally did, no matter how risky the outfit…with some exceptions. She still wore no make-up and her bright green eyes were fixed on him appraising her.

He made no comments and her attention went to her stupid cane which was still on the ground, far away from her.

Julia glared at the cane, not sure if she was going to be able to bend down and then get up again.

"Would you mi-" she started to ask but Sherlock had already swooped down to retrieve her cane and handed it back to her, before she'd started speaking.

She smiled genuinely up at him, her insides going soft at his kind gesture "Thank you Mr Holmes" she said, her face lit with a genuine smile.

At least he was a gentlemen, could have been worse.

Sherlock nodded, his face harder than it was a second ago, shook her outstretched hand, noting how her hands were smaller yet steady, feeling her pulse slow down gradually.

A true gentleman would have kissed her cheek…but this was Sherlock Holmes.

"_Sherlock_, please" he corrected her with a little smile of his own. He too, took the knocker and banged the door and called "_Mrs Hudson_!"

"Our land-lady" he said in response to Julia's confused look. "We got an offer on the rent; I helped her a few years back with her husband executed."

"You mean you stopped it" Julia asked, trying to work out how Sherlock could say that so calmly.

"No, I ensured it" he replied calmly and before Julia could ask again the door had swung open and a middle aged woman had pulled Sherlock into her arms, cheerfully greeting him like a son "Sherlock, please come in!"

Sherlock stepped back and allowed Julia to walk in before him. Julia smiled gratefully and got in the door which Mrs Hudson pulled closed behind them.

"Who's this?" she asked, motioning to Julia.

Julia had a feeling that Sherlock had forgotten her name so she helped him out. "Julia Watson, nice to meet you, Mrs Hudson."

Mrs Hudson smiled and then embraced Julia to her surprise but welcomed it.

"Come" Sherlock said, his brow furrowed slightly and proceeded up the stairs to the first floor. Julia faltered when she got the final step but her determination allowed her to. She closed her eyes in frustration and really wished this condition would vanish.

"Here we are" Sherlock said as he opened the door in front of the stairs and it displayed out to a cramp and small but pleasant living area. When she walked in, she noticed several things at once; it was messy with files everywhere but it didn't bother her much. There was a long desk in between the windows, two sofas and a large fireplace. She turned a corner and there was a kitchen with several lab kits on the wooden kitchen table. (She grinned, yes; this is where Sherlock lived, given his interest at St Bart's yesterday.) There was also a peculiar smell emitting from the fridge.

"Do I want to go into that fridge?" she asked, a line forming between her eyes.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, as if what he said wasn't a big thing. "I have some frozen feet in there, refrigerating and don't be surprised to see some human eyes in the microwave." He was still standing, his hands behind his back as if waiting for her approval.

_Why would that bother him?_ She thought but she burst out laughing instead. _Toes, in the fridge? Eyes in the microwave?_

Sherlock and Mrs Hudson exchanged a curious glance before they looked at her again.

"Sorry" she said, a little breathlessly. "It just sounds very odd, yet funny."

Sherlock rolled his eyes again, looking truly irritated.

She bit her lip_, don't laugh, don't laugh, do NOT laugh_.

She mentally shook her head and then staggered towards the living area again.

"There's an upstairs bedroom if you need one" Mrs Hudson said, her finger prodding her lips as she looked between Sherlock and Julia.

Julia was proud that she didn't blush. "We'll need both Mrs Hudson."

Sherlock was staring intently at her again. She ignored his gaze as she sat down as Mrs Hudson flitted out of the room quietly. She groaned when she sat down and half flung the cane away from her.

"Do you not like it then?" Sherlock asked, still not sitting but he had removed his coat and scarf. His face was red where it had been cold outside and his skin was now flushed (not in embarrassment).

"The flat or that _stick_?" she asked calmly. She threw her _stick_, a bad look, as if it had just insulted her.

"Well obviously you despise the stick" Sherlock said quickly, but he wave done from his hands as he sat down on the sofa opposite her, "That wasn't what I was as-"

"The flat is lovely" she supplied for him. Then she changed the conversation. "I looked you up on the internet yesterday."

Sherlock's gaze bore into hers, "What did you find?"

"Your website" she said and then remembered her incredulous thoughts of it. "It was…_interesting_ to say the least" Julia tested the waters. "You said you could identify somebody's job title but if they were left or not."

"Yes, well there are clues _everywhere_! How do you think I concluded what you were?"

"So you deducted that I'm an army doctor, home for…for…" Julia had no idea how long but she sighed when she realised that if this limp remained, then she'd never recover to go back into action.

"Home for how long?" Sherlock asked, looking up at her.

Julia's face was pained, lost in a trace as memories and she recalled all of her friends, those who might suffer because she wasn't there, _would she ever see them again?_

Distracted by her thoughts she stumbled upwards and kicked the crutch away from her, and stood up normally, remembering the pump of adrenaline (her fists flexing and her eyes must have taken on a glazed over look) and _danger_ that used to rocket through her blood cells…

"_June_! You're going to fall over..." Sherlock's voice pierced her protective thoughts and she crumpled to the hard floor instantly as her mind returning to crimpling her. She moaned in pain as her eyes blurred.

She opened her eyes to see Sherlock kneeling over her, not concern, but curiosity in his expression.

"How did you do that?" he asked.

But Julia had a pressing issue to address.

"My name is Julia, _not June!_ – who the _bloody_ hell is _June!_?" she screeched. "Call me _Julie_ if the A is too hard for you to pronounce, _not June_!"

"You're affected by me calling you 'June?'" Sherlock was scanning her again. This only fuelled her anger.

"Bloody stop that _Sherlock_!" she said, clasping her hand to his eyes which made him cringe.

"Do what?" yelped a blinded Sherlock.

The hilarity of the situation was getting to her and she loosened her hand as she started laughing weakly. But then Sherlock looked at her and they both cracked up laughing.

Julia got into a sitting position as she tried to stop laughing. "Oh dear, this is going to be fun, I can tell already" she chortled.

Sherlock stood up smartly and walked over to where she'd kicked her crutch and looked at it closely before returning it to Julia. There were various marks and scratches on it, often that it had been subject to Julia's abuse and frustration.

_How was he going to fix that for her?_ His logic pointed that she was remembering the war when she'd walked freely, if she was haunted by it, then she'd want it gone and she wouldn't cope. Was she addicted to the thrill of bombs and loud noises? A small smirk appeared on his face, his back to her.

"Sometimes I wish I'd snap it in half and then I'd _have_ to live without it" Julia moaned interrupting his plans, closing her eyes again. Sherlock snorted, and walked over to her.

She opened her eyes weakly, nausea pulsing her stomach and the smell in the kitchen where she'd managed to walk to, _wasn't_ helping.

Sherlock knelt down again and Julia put an arm round his shoulders as he heaved her up upwards, quickly propping her up with her cane by her side. She kept her hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly but trying not to crease his expensive jacket as her balance hadn't returned.

She took deep breathes and withheld the shudder that wanted to ripple her body.

"Sorry Sherlock" she gasped out, leaning her head against her hand on his shoulder.

Sherlock shifted and awkwardly patted her twice of the back. She chuckled and looked up at him.

"Tea or coffee?" she asked him. He nodded curtly, but she could tell he was amused by her faint and weak state. She couldn't blame him, she looked quite drunk and funny.

"Tea please Julie" he answered and she took another deep breath, exhaling slowly before she let go of Sherlock's jacket and staggered the small distance to the kitchen counter, brushing aside some dishes from the lab.

She made another mental note that only Sherlock could have the excuse of calling her Juli**e**, rather than Jul**ia**.


	4. Chapter 4: Deducting The Doctor

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<br>_

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><p><em>CHAPTER 4 : ''Deducting The Doctor'<br>_

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><p>Julia got used to Sherlock's company (since her fall) quite easily as she sat in the wide and inviting armchair in their flat.<p>

Sherlock was pacing up and down the living room, which (surprisingly0) Julia was able to tune out as she continued to read the newspaper quietly.

"There must be a link _somewhere_" she heard him mutter and she looked up at him.

"Problem?" she asked and realised it was the same way he'd said it the day before. Only Sherlock reacted a lot worse to it.

He pouched and leered (slightly unpleasantly) at her and snarled "Why won't he phone me? He clearly needs my help! Three people are dead! You would have thought that he'd want me to work it out!"

Julia blinked, calmly folded up the newspaper and sat up straighter and stared intently at Sherlock while he stood over her.

"Who are you on about?" she asked. "And are you mentioning the murders that have been happening over the city?"

"_Yes_!" he nodded frantically.

The doorbell rang downstairs. "_Mrs HUDSON_!" Sherlock yelled, as he resumed his pacing.

"Sherlock" she said disapprovingly as she attempted to get up. Her cane fell on the floor so she tufted at herself and resumed her seat.

"It's best for both of us if she gets it" Sherlock muttered unkindly.

He was twitching his fingers and visibly shaking, from…_anger_?

"Sherlock" she said calmingly. "Take it down a notch, start from the beginnin-" then it dawned on her. "Why are you so interested in murders?"

Sherlock opened his mouth to respond but footsteps were making their way up the stairs, heels of Mrs Hudson and work shoes.

In came Mrs Hudson and behind her, a grey-haired man with a suit and thick jacket. Julia spotted the ID card on him at once and was able to read it at a glance 'DI Gregory Lestrade'.

Lestrade face was desperate and he looked begging at Sherlock who hid his smirk quickly. Julia just sat back and eyed the man warily.

"_Where_?" Sherlock asked sharply, his hands clasped together, as if he was praying. But Julia spotted the excitement in his eyes. She sighed heavily and continued to the newspaper, but still eavesdropping the conversation.

"Brixton" Lestrade said, his voice lighter than Sherlock's and his baby-brown eyes were wide and he was half pouting.

Julia thought not to snort at this thought. Pouting at Sherlock? Somehow that seemed unlikely.

"Who's on forensics?" Sherlock half-demanded at Lestrade. Julia grunted and was shocked at this man's blatant disregard for the detective inspector.

Lestrade cast an eye in her direction but Julia kept her head down, Sherlock ignored her completely.

"Anderson" Lestrade admitted, somewhat reluctantly.

Sherlock scoffed in frustration.

"I can't work with Anderson, I need an assistant!" the taller man growled desperately. Julia, out of the corner eye, saw Sherlock pause and shoot a look at her sitting down, as if remembering something.

Julia cleared her throat and turned a page of the newspaper, finding absolutely no interest in the article about a missing parrot.

"Will you come?" Lestrade sounded really desperate, he sounded like he understood Sherlock and his skills of 'deduction'.

There was a pause in which Sherlock sighed and answered warily "Not in the police car, I'll be right behind you."

Lestrade nodded, shot another glance at Julia, before shaking his head and walking down the stairs and a few seconds later she heard the front door slam shut firmly.

Sherlock remained silent and still for a second until he jumped excitedly like a little child and whooped out loud.

Julia caught the smile on Mrs Hudson's face and read her instantly; she obviously cared as dearly as a mother to a son as she did to Sherlock. Despite all the protests of being just a landlady, was just a cover-up joke to check on Sherlock every day.

"Aha!" Sherlock had exclaimed. "Nothing like an good imaginative serial killer, and I thought it'd be a boring evening, there's nothing on TV. Mrs Hudson, I'll be late back and might want some food-"

"I'm your landlady dear, not your housekeeper" Mrs Hudson replied gently. But she smiled none the less. She turned to Julia, looking at Sherlock confused. "Cup of tea, sweet?"

Julia jumped and nodded mutely, not really listening. Sherlock hadn't paused as he grabbed a bag of tools, his black gloves, long coat and quickly tied up his scarf round his long pale neck.

"-something cold would be good. Also, Julie, put your feet up, make yourself at home, accept Mrs Hudson's offer and don't wait up!" he finished, before striding out of the room on his long legs.

Julia blinked before turning to Mrs Hudson. She smiled at the young doctor. "Look at him dashing about!" she chuffed. "I'll get you that cup of tea, you rest your leg-"

"Damm my leg!" Julia scoffed, louder than she intended and instantly regretted losing her temper. "I'm an so sorry, I didn't mean-it's just, sometimes this _bloody_ thing-"

"I understand sweet, I've got a hip" Mrs Hudson replied, walking into the kitchen and then out of a side door.

Julia leaned back in the chair and groaned loudly, she glanced around and glowered at her leg again. But as she did, she recognized a photograph on the newspaper.

She picked it up quickly and read the caption. It was the picture of the inspector who had just walked in, to see Sherlock.

"DI Lestrade is in charge of the on-going investigation" she murmured and then leant back and thought, her left hand finger tips touching her lips, a habit of hers. Why would the lead inspector ask Sherlock of all people? To be fair, she didn't know the guy at all, and she had no idea why he was intrigued…but he'd come across professional, even if it be a bit childish about the case.

"You're a doctor" came a baritone voice from the doorway.

Julia leapt up from the chair in alarm, keeping a steady hand on her cane. Julia saw that Sherlock had re-entered the room, sliding his gloves on his elegant fingers. "In fact you're an army doctor."

Julia nodded her head sharply once, trying to detect what he was on about.

"Are you any good?" he asked simply, walking slowly towards her. He seemed to want to come across as intimidating, and she was slightly wary of him…but in awe as well and that sounded embarrassing to admit that.

"How can you even ask that?" she muttered quickly. The images of all the injuries, dead bodies, mangled bodies and guns, the bangs, the sounds…

She blinked once and narrowed her eyes at his slightly stunned look. "Very good" she said sternly, looking every part the matured woman she was behind the injury and young looks.

"Seen a lot of injuries, a lot of violent deaths..?"

Julia kept her head steady, and she was totally calm, not realising that her hand was still and her leg was stable without the grip on the stick by her side.

"What do you think?" she said, huskily from the strength of her tone. "A regular doctor can _understand_ how to do something serious" she took a breath. "You know, that army doctors have the _strength_ and the tolerance to deal with that _pressure_ and the action _taken_, to do the job."

"Nerves of steel then?" Sherlock probed. "A brave young woman?" His tone was _husky_ as well and you could hear the creak of his anticipation there.

"I did my duty to my country!" she snapped, before lowering her voice. "I'm _not_ a hero and there is nothing _young_ about me except my appearance and the amount of days, months, years I've been walking, talking and breathing on this planet. Far too much experience for one lifetime."

Sherlock locked his gaze on hers again for a long moment.

Dare she believe that there was a strong and thick layer of chemistry in the room, between them?

"Want to see some more?" Sherlock asked gently.

Julia's face broke into a generous grin and spoke before she thought "Oh god, yes!"

"With me, Dr Watson" Sherlock said, holding out his arm. Julia rolled her eyes and linked her arm through his and they half ran down the house, Sherlock's arm round her back to help her descend the stairs.

"We're off out Mrs Hudson!" called Sherlock as he let loose of Julia and she staggered slightly on the final step.

"What both of you?"

Mrs Hudson sounded very disappointed and Julia felt a pang of regret.

"No point sitting at home with these creative serial killers running around London, behind my back!" Sherlock reassured her.

"Look at you, all happy!" she scolded, but she was smiling as well. "It's not decent!"

"Who cares about decent?" Sherlock muttered. "The game, Mrs Hudson, is ON!"

"Hmm _dramatic_ much?" Julia uttered quietly. Sherlock shot her a look and she winked.

They strode out of the door, closed the door to 221b Baker Street shut and Sherlock yelled at an on-coming taxi driving towards them. "_TAXI_!"

* * *

><p>After they were sat inside the taxi and racing down a main road to the dark scenery of London, Julia stole a glance at the man in the taxi with her. He was looking out of the window, his curly hair dangling over his ears and his fringe hanging just above his observant eyes.<p>

She refrained from sighing and whipped her head away from him, tapping her fingers against her lips again.

"Stop it" Sherlock's voice sliced through the relative silence.

She froze in her tapping and looked at him, her eyes furrowing together. "Can't."

"Why?" he snapped.

"Habit" she answered. "Where are we going?" she asked quickly before he got snappy.

It worked. "Crime scene" Sherlock drawled lazily. "There's been a murder."

His voice so bland and depressingly smooth got to her nerves. "Who are you? What do you do Sherlock?"

Without missing a beat he replied "What do you think?"

"I'd say Private Detective…" Julia muttered, looking away and thinking hard, her fingers tapping her chin this time. "But…the police don't go to private detectives."

"I'm a consultant detective, I'm the only one in the world" he bragged causally. "I invented the job."

"What does that even mean?" she asked, exasperated.

"It means that when the police are out of their depth – which is always – they consult me."

"The police don't consult…-" Julia stopped herself before she offended him. Or should she continue? Sherlock looked over at her and seemed to know what she was going to say so she finished her original statement. "- ammeters."

Sherlock looked at her steadily and there was a five second silence.

"When I met you for the first time yesterday and asked 'Afghanistan or Iraq' you looked surprised" he said this so causally that he genuinely was confused and didn't understand basic emotions.

"How did you know?" Julia speedily interrupted.

"I didn't know, I _saw_" he said carefully, as if explaining to a two-year old. "Tanned face, but no tan below the wrists, so you've been abroad but not sunbathing. Your style and the way you hold yourself says military and your hair has recently been dyed, probably from a lighter colour than the light beige brown it is now.

"Your conversation when you entered the room says that you'd been at St Barts before, _years_ beforehand, which makes it easy to guess; you were trained at Barts, so _Army Doctor_, obviously.

"Your limp and struggle to walk is very bad but when you stand for a long time, you almost forget it instantly. You don't ask for a chair so that supports that observation and means your limp is only party psychosomatic. Then that leads to the original events which lead to the injury were traumatising. Wounded in action then. Where does an army doctor get wounded in action these days with a suntan; Afghanistan or Iraq?"

Julia was gaping so she closed her mouth but she was silently baffled and amazed by the level of deep observation and reasoning to what he saw.

"You said I had a therapist?"

"You've got a psychosomatic limp; of course you have a therapist!" Sherlock said impatiently.

Julia pinched her arm and then looked at Sherlock, who was facing the window in another odd silence. She sighed and this seemed to prompt Sherlock into continuing his analysis of her.

"Then there's your sister" he said, privately pleased with himself, but not expecting any sort of praise – why should he? – Sherlock had learnt that nobody appreciated his quick thinking and logical answers.

"Your phone, its expensive, email enabled and built in mp3 player. You're looking for a flat somewhere; you wouldn't waste money on a brand new phone like this. It's a gift then, there are scratches, not just one but several which makes me think that it has been in the same pocket as other things such as keys and coins.

"A person like you wouldn't treat her only luxury like this. Unless it was in a messy handbag, which I doubt as you haven't walked around with one, even though yesterday you were wearing a dress with no pockets, but today, you're wearing jeans and a leather jacket, plenty of pockets for phone, lip-gloss and money to hide.

"It's had a previous owner then. Next part's easy-"

"The engraving?" Julia stated simply.

"Sammy Watson, obviously a family member, who's given you her old phone. Not your mother, this is a young woman's phone , could be a cousin, but you're a war hero returning home and you might not have an extended family, or any your close to. So sister it is.

"Clara, who's Clara?"

Julia snorted slightly as his brow furrowed.

"Three kisses states it's a romantic attachment, expense of the phone says…_partner_, rather than mere dating."

Sherlock seemed to be choosing his words rather carefully, which Julia found hilarious, but hid her smirk.

"The model's only six months old then, so it's a marriage in trouble, six months old and she's giving it away to you? If she'd left Clara, then she'd of discarded the phone and Sammy wouldn't have it, sentiment.

"So she's given the phone to you, that spells that she wants to keep in touch with you, wants to help you. You're looking for cheap accommodation and you're avoiding your sister for help, girls tend to stick together, which must be something interesting going on between you as siblings, can't blame you cannot stand my brother. Maybe you don't like your sister's drinking?"

"How can you _possibly_ know about the drinking?" she said, her voice breathless with bewilderment.

"Random shot in the dark, good on though" he said, smirking to himself. "Around the power connection are tiny scruff marks, so when she goes to plug it in every night, her hands are shaking. Never see a sober person's hands with them, never a drunk's without."

"You see you were correct" he finished and she turned sharply to him.

"Right about what?"

"The police don't consult amateurs" he said, leaning back to look out of the side window.

Julia was utterly astounded; what she's just heard was so simple, yet so easily-overlooked.

Julia cleared her dry throat and shook her head in disbelief and then turned to him. "_That_…was amazing" She said quietly.

Sherlock's mind turned, thoroughly confused. Why was she impressed by a simple tool? Nobody else for a long while complimented his methods and found it 'amazing'. How could any woman pay him this amount of praise?

"_Really_?" he said, straightening himself up and looking every inch the man who wanted to amaze a woman. Except Sherlock wasn't.

"_Yes_!" Julia whispered loudly, meeting his eyes. "That was extraordinary, quite extraordinary. It's such a…wonder to realise how much the police overlook things unless you can understand all the small and simple facts that builds and supports a person's character!"

"That's not what people normally say" he said in a small and uncharacteristic voice. Julia smiled at him, he was flattered.

"What do they normally say?" she asked.

"Piss off!" he exclaimed.

Julia shook her head and snorted. She sighed happily and continued looking out of the window. But Sherlock heard her say "_Simply amazing_" another time and (dare he think it?) felt his cheeks heat up.

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR NOTES: I apolgise for any slip ups! But Julia is different :) Loving her already lol. Thanks for any reviews and reads! :P<strong>


	5. Chapter 5: Crime Scene Drama

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<br>_

* * *

><p><em>CHAPTER 5 : ''Crime Scene Drama'<br>_

* * *

><p>The taxi stopped in a dark street lit by street lamps and the police car lights. Sherlock and Julia got out and started walking towards a sectioned off area.<p>

"Did I get anything wrong?" Sherlock said in his drawling voice, doing up his coat and sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Sammy and me don't get on" Julia supplied as she limped along the wet tarmac for road. "Used to, not anymore. Sammy and Clara split up two weeks ago, before I arrived back and filing for divorce. Sammy's an alcoholic."

"Spot on then, I didn't expect to get everything rig-"

"Sammy" she smirked. "is short for Samuel. He's…_well_, recently found out he's not straight…and so it couldn't go on."

"_Dammit_! He's your brother!" Sherlock said, thoroughly irritated with himself.

"I'm already impressed Sherlock" she muttered. "But yeah; my little brother. _What exactly am I here for?_" she added, voicing her concern.

"Brother!" he hissed and walked towards a woman, wearing a dark green coat, tight to show the roundness of her breasts and her skirt was short…short enough to reveal very bruised knees.

"Hello freak" the woman called, unpleasantly and Julia felt her defences kick in.

"Sally, always a pleasure" Sherlock ignored the jab.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"I was invited."

"By who?"

"DI Lestrade, I think he wants me to take a look." Sherlock was clearly annoying her.

"Well you know what think don't you?" Her voice held no warmth, and she sounded like she was either angry or afraid of the Consultant Detective.

"Always Sally" Sherlock supplied, slipping under the police tape, he motioned Julia to follow. "Even though you didn't make it home last night."

But Sally saw Julia, eyeing her up, clearly for flaws. Julia got the impression she wasn't going to get on with her at all.

"Who's this?" said Sally, snidely.

Julia saw that she had a thick black scarf on, quite high up her neck and smirked slightly. Judging by the state of her knees, _well_, she guessed Sherlock could figure what had been up to.

"My colleague" Sherlock answered sharply and proceeded under the wire.

"Are you sure?" Julia asked, playing her part perfectly. "If it's better I go back-"

"No" Sherlock said and held the police tape over her head. She rolled her eyes and then walked underneath towards the abandoned house.

"Has he dragged you off the street? If you're in no condition to walk-" Sally said, pointing at her crutch.

Julia heard Sherlock's rumbling chuckle, it did nothing to affect her feisty temper.

Julia bristled and barked "I'm perfectly capable to walk Sargent Donovan!"

Donovan's eyes went wide with surprise. Julia rolled her eyes and picked at the ID card pointing out from under her coat.

"But judging that you'd rather stand here in the cold, sporting a _hickie_, then fair play!" Julia continued.

Sherlock, behind Donovan's back, half-gaped at her.

"Who are you?" Sally accused, glowering at her and almost tempting her to hit her.

Julia grabbed her Army ID from her jacket's pocket and held it up to the stunned officer "_Captain_ Julia Watson, 5th Northumberland Fusiliers -_ Don't_ question my authority, we clear?"

Donovan still gaped, so Julia put her ID back in her pocket and followed the Consultant Detective into the building, laughing silently at Sherlock's comment about aftershave and Donovan's knees.

"_Bitch_" Julia spat when they were out of earshot of Sally and Anderson. " And he's a foul twisted person as well! Their absolutely _perfect_ for each other!"

"That was-" Sherlock started to say, clearly stunned, something he wasn't used to.

"I know" Julia sighed. "Hopefully Lestrade won't question me as she did."

Sherlock looked questionley at her.

"I spotted the ID, for God's sakes! I'm a _solider_, Sherlock!" she whispered in a hiss. "I was trained to be observant, focussed and save people's lives while in a warzone! But I was observant to start off with" she added as an afterthought.

* * *

><p>They walked (in Julia's case, hobbled) up the stairs and into a sectioned off room.<p>

Julia (wearing a ridiculous blue forensic zip-up suit) cringed when she saw the dead body, but refrained from walking out and carefully observed Sherlock scan the dead woman, lying face down on the smelly wooden floor, her hand outstretched and she'd carved a word into the floorboards. She was dressed in a hideously pink suit and pink heels. Her blonde hair was slightly damp from rain (she presumed) and Julia walked over to see the word she'd written.

Sherlock had finished and looked at Lestrade, whom was eyeing Julia, who was reading the words '_R A C H E_'.

"Who is this?" Lestrade asked, a lot more politely than Donovan.

Julia smiled and shook his hand.

"Dr Watson" Sherlock introduced them.

"We already have a do-"

"**_Army_** Doctor" Sherlock added, more firmly. " Trained by the military, home from being in Afghanistan and she can work with me. Anderson and the others _cannot_. And don't deny it, because you _need_ me to solve this case."

"And Dr Watson has already made her mark on Sally" Sherlock added. Lestrade chuckled.

Julia shrugged, turned to Sherlock and slowly pointed out "Is she spelling '_Rachel'_?"

Sherlock looked up sharply, looked back at the floor, muttered something and beamed at her, pride in his eyes. Julia blinked in shock.

"_Of course_!" Sherlock said happily as she walked around the woman and clapped Julia on the shoulder.

"Only a small and useless mind like yours Julie can help me solve this case _properly_!"

"Hmmm…" Julia wondered if it was a compliment or not. But given his tone, expression and the surprised look on Lestrade's face, she smiled back as she saw it as a compliment.

"Well, what did you think it was at first?" she asked somewhat quietly.

"_Rache_" Lestrade said. "means _Revenge_ in German. Take a look at her if you want Dr Watson."

Julia looked closer at the woman and kneeled down, to smell her mouth. She checked her neck and squeezed the tissue, guessing if there was something she choked on.

Julia pursed her lips and moved her hair away to look at her neck, no strangling marks. She checked her face and saw the glassed eyes look.

"What's your verdict Doctor Watson?" Lestrade asked.

"Julia" she corrected him, and bit her lip.

"Given that I've read the articles, I'm going to _ignore_ that and be completely neutral on my verdict" she said slowly, aware that Sherlock was right in front of her and observing her.

"She must have taken something to- well _most likely_ the poison- either passed out or had a seizure and choked on her own vomit. Her breath – as bad a dead person's breath can be- _doesn't_ smell like she's been strangled of abused in anyway. She came here completely un-harmed _except_ that she took something to make her paralysed and weakened.

"That might be when _this_-" she pointed at the writing. "-backs that up. She's already started to move her _hand_-" she traced the woman's finger. "-and write the _L_ for the end. If not, then her hand might have concealed the message unless someone moved it."

She looked up to two stunned faces. She blushed and stood up, and shrugged. Sherlock looked at her silently before bending over the woman himself, withdrawing a small magnifying tool and removing the women's wedding ring, replacing it, feeling her coat, looking at her umbrella.

"My name's Greg" Lestrade said awkwardly stepping forward and holding out his hand. She shook it and nodded her face still pink.

"Julia" she repeated before watching Sherlock takeout his phone and look for something. A few minutes later Sherlock grinned, and removed his plastic gloves.

"Got anything?" Lestrade asked.

"Not much" Sherlock muttered. "Do you need it written down?"

"Sherlock" Lestrade cautioned.

"Oh Lord help me" Julia shouted, opening her pocket and withdrawing a small notepad. "I'll write it down!"

"I thought someone should, since you don't keep up with me" Sherlock uttered and then started his view.

"Victim is in her late 30's, got a job somewhere in the media, given the frankly alarming shade of pink clothing, and nail polish. Travelled from Cardiff today, expecting to only stay one night, judging by the size of her suitcase. She'd been married for at least ten years, but not happily. She's had a sting of lovers, none of which knew she was married."

"Oh for god's sakes! If you're just making this up!" Lestrade cried aloud. "What proof, Sherlock?"

"Her wedding ring!" Sherlock fought back. "It's a design at least ten years old! The rest of her jewellery has been regularly cleaned, except her wedding ring, condition of her marriage right there! Inside of the ring is shiner means it's regularly removed, and the only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger!"

"It's not for work; she doesn't use her hands, look at her nails. So what rather _who_ does she remove her ring for?" He detailed. "Clearly not one lover, she'd never sustain the fiction of being single that long. So more likely, a string of them - _simple_."

"That's brilliant" Julia said before she could stop herself. Sherlock seemed to flash a warning look but it wasn't angry. He was more astonished that she found it interesting. "Sorry."

Lestrade continued "_Cardiff_?"

"Obvious isn't it?" Sherlock drawled, moving his eyes away from Julia.

"Not obvious to me" the doctor added. Sherlock looked at her, and then to Lestrade, a puzzlement in his face.

"Dear god, what must it be like in your funny little brains; it must be so boring" Sherlock said bitterly. Julia's anger flared but she repressed it.

"Her coat is slightly damp; she's been in heavy rain in the past few hours, no rain in London in that time slot. Under her coat collar is wet, she's had it up against the wind. There's a dry umbrella in her coat pocket which hasn't been used. It was too windy to use her umbrella. So where has there been heavy rain and strong wind in the last few hours – Cardiff" he concluded, holding out his Blackberry.

"That's fantastic" Julia blurted out again.

"Do you know you say that out loud?" sniped Sherlock.

"Sorry, I'll shut up" Julia said, finishing her last notes on the notepad.

"No" Sherlock said, curiously flattered by his voice. "It's fine."

Julia rolled her eyes and ripped the five pieces of paper off the pad and handed them to Sherlock.

"Correct?" she asked, knowing that he'd probably want to be precise.

He took the notes, scanning them and (probably) her neat yet hurried handwriting. She sighed and gently took them from his grasp and gave them to the DI who was looking oddly at the two of them.

"Are you two-"

"_No_" Julia snapped, feeling that this would become everyone's assumption.

Lestrade shook his head. "Why do you keep saying she had a suitcase?"

Sherlock distracted from his previous comment (what was Lestrade saying, 'are you two' oh) looked around "Yes, what have you done with it? She must have had a phone with her, or laptop."

"There wasn't one with her" Lestrade stated blankly. "How could you tell she had one with her?"

"Look at the back of her right leg" snapped Sherlock impatiently. "There are traces of mud, muddy puddles that you can receive from holding a small overnight suitcase with her right hand."

Then he changed track and rounded on Julia. "Why did you think she was writing Rachel?"

Julia met his gaze and narrowed her eyes. "I said why, Sherlock, her hand's position, well before you moved it, yet I don't think it makes a difference" she said stiffly, walking towards the woman's hand again.

"What was her name?" Sherlock asked.

"Jennifer Wilson, some kids found her here."

"Well she's old enough to have children herself" Julia reasoned, imagining the situation. "_Although_ she might have not if she's causally having a string of lovers all on the trot, even when you're unhappily married, you don't abandon your children, not for anything!"

"And you two stop looking at me like that!" she said angrily, fighting her natural temper. "I'm not the messiah!"

"No, you're another Sherlock!" Lestrade chuckled.

Julia held not once trace of her snort light. "Don't be _ridiculous_! I'm a lot more opinionated and the thought only occurred to me because I _knew_ somebody who did hav-" she stopped short and closed her eyes, forcing the image out of her head.

She opened her eyes again to thankfully seeing Sherlock parade round looking for the suitcase. She'd have to thank him for the distraction later.

"Sherlock, there wasn't a case!" Lestrade was frantically telling the detective but he wasn't hearing him.

Sherlock dashed out of the room and yelled to the other forensic people in the building. "_SUITCASE_! DID ANYONE FIND A SUITCASE WITH THE WOMAN?"

"_Sherlock_!" Lestrade yelled himself.

Julia took one last glance at the dead woman and sighed, getting up and leaving the room. Feeling her leg weaken with each step she took.

* * *

><p>When she got to the bottom of the staircase (which took a while) and out the door onto the street, she found Sherlock to be nowhere and apparently run off to do something.<p>

Sighing, she hobbled down the path and towards the police tape.

"So, what's with you and the freak?" Sally sneered.

"Nothing, I'm his flatmate" she answered civilly. "And I'd watch your tone, I may not be in the police force, but I've seen things that would make your toes curl."

Sally did a double-take "Who are you?"

"I'm not telling you my life story, especially to somebody who is supposed to act professionally yet still feel the need to sneer when the case isn't going by _your_ rules, and _your_ way. Being selfish and cold-hearted and not good traits to have Sally Donovan, and that isn't a threat" Julia said simply.

"Who are you, my mother?" snapped Sally. "I bet you're old enough to be my mother."

"How pathetic" Julia sighed and carried on walking. "I'm younger than you are. You're clearly over the age of thirty and I am barely twenty-six. See you around Sargent Donovan."

"Stay away from Sherlock Holmes!" Sally called. "He's a psychopath and dangerous!"

_Dangerous, one word that will attract me to him_, Julia thought.

"Going soft are you Sally? I thought you despised me, yet here you are offering me advice about Sherlock Holmes!"

"He does this all for free, he has an addiction. Sooner or later, we're all gunna be standing around a dead body and Sherlock Holmes will have been the one to have put it there!" Sally finished with a smug smile. Her walkie talkie buzzed and she turned away.

Julia looked around and walked towards the main road, hoping to hail a cab as it would take her forever to get back to Baker Street like this.


	6. Chapter 6: Mysteriously Abducted

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<br>_

* * *

><p><em>CHAPTER 6: 'Mysteriously Abducted<em>

* * *

><p>Julia got to the main street and took a quick breather. It was ridiculous how much her bloody leg stung, and was numb at the same time.<p>

As she started walking again, she passed by a bright red London telephone booth.

The phone inside started ringing just as she was beside it. But nobody else was around her at that precise time. She shrugged and continued limping along.

But again, she walked past a busy take-away store and the phone inside started ringing, which was on display to the street outdoors to the massive clear windows. Julia's brow furrowed but ignored it none the less. But further along the street, another red booth started ringing shrilly once more.

Fed up with the curiosity, Julia rolled her eyes and entered the booth after a few seconds pause.

She picked up the receiver "Hello?"

A posh and well-mannered tone replied to her quietly, but threatening. "There is a security camera on the building to your left. Do you see it?"

Julia was puzzled and looked at the phone she held before glancing out of the panes of the telephone booth. "Excuse me? Who's speaking?" she asked.

"Do you see the camera, Dr Watson?" the voice continued.

"Yeah I see it" she said, sighing. _It can't be good if he knows who I am._

"_Watch_."

The camera swung to its right and to another security camera on the building across the street.

"There is another camera on the building opposite you, do you see it?"

"_Mm-hm_" she replied dully.

"And finally, on the top of the building to your right."

"Who is this?" Julia demanded.

The voice became stern but calm. "Get into the car Dr Watson. I would make some sort of threat but I'm sure your situation is quite clear to you."

The phone went dead. The car drove and parked in front of her, and a man opened the back passenger door for her. Julia sighed heavily, dropped the phone and limped towards the car, feeling or seeing no room to protest.

* * *

><p>After ten minutes, Julia realised that a woman was sitting next to her, typing madly into an expensive looking phone in her hands, held right up close to her face. Her hair was long, dark brown and richly lusciously looked after. Her clothes were professional yet let some room for style and flaunting her curves.<p>

"Hello" she said, lightly nervously.

"Hi" the woman replied, unfazed but beamed at her.

"What's your name then?" Julia asked.

"Errrm" the woman said, clearly making up a fake name for herself. "Anthea."

Julia snorted lightly. "That's not your real name, is it?"

"_No_" the woman grinned and regained her texting.

"I'm Julia" she said, feeling that small talk was useless.

"I know."

"Any point in asking where I'm going?" Julia muttered, impatiently. Lestrade might be right; she really was becoming to sound like Sherlock.

"No, none at all…Julia" the woman replied, not looking at her at all.

"Ok" Julia settled, rolling her eyes and wondering what Sherlock was up to, after he'd run off leaving his new flatmate (who he KNEW she had a limp) on the other side of the capital city from the flat!

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later, they arrived at a darkened and gloomy abandoned warehouse. Julia felt some adrenaline pumping through her veins but ignored it as she easily removed herself from within the car.<p>

In front of the car and being illuminated by the headlights, was a smartly dressed, short haired and frankly superior man, leaning on an old fashioned umbrella.

Julia paused as she walked towards him, but then carried on, saying that he could have rung her, on her phone.

"When one is trying to avoid the attention of Sherlock Holmes, one must act discreetly hence this place. Now, please sit down Julia, your leg must be hurting you."

It was the same voice as the one of the phone and his smile was mocking, yet knowing. Julia growled "I don't want to sit down."

"You don't seem very afraid" the man drawled, in a similar tone to Sherlock's…what did that mean?

Julia kept her tone as even as his "You don't seem very frightening."

The man chuckled breathlessly and smiled widely. "Yes, the bravery of the soldier…"

_Why do people assume I'm a brave war hero?_ Julia thought angrily. _It's not something to be proud of, seeing people you know, who you care about, die or try to save them but can't._

"Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity, don't you think?" the man added lightly.

Julia narrowed her eyes, trying to figure the man out.

Now she'd though that Sherlock donned himself in expensive clothes, this man made Sherlock look disgraceful in comparison. He wore a well-designed waistcoat, and the material of his suit, shirt and trousers were all linen and not cotton. He seemed the man who wore shirts with cufflinks and tie his shoes with laces of tightly-knotted silk. He was very well-off and quite …_un-attractive_ to her.

The man carried on, despite not noticing her beady eyes sizing him up. "What is your connection to Sherlock Holmes?"

Julia blinked in surprise. "Err, nothing…I met him…yesterday."

"Mm yes and since yesterday, you've moved in with him and solving crimes together, should we be expecting a happy announcement by the end of the week?" he said quickly, raising an eyebrow.

Julia glowered, _was it really that easy to assume she and Sherlock were a couple?_

_Hmm, well, look at it from everybody else!_

Julia was glad she didn't blush as her thoughts said that. "No, and who are you?"

"An interested party" the man replied.

"Interested in me or Sherlock? Nosy or simply bored?" she fought back.

The man was startled at her daring but dismissed it easily. "Why are you interested in Sherlock? I'm guessing you're not friends" she asked, not kindly.

"You're met him" the man chuckled again. "How many friends do you imagine he's got?"

_When you say it like that, I feel really bad for Sherlock now! Poor Sherlock._

"I'm the closest thing to a friend Sherlock Holmes is capable to having-"

"And what's that?"

"-an enemy."

Julia bit back a laugh. "Are you serious?"

"In _his_ mind certainly" the man replied coolly. "If you were to ask, he might call me his 'arch-enemy'. He does love to be _dramatic_."

_Hmm, well that's hard to guess…_

"Well thank god, _you're_ above all that" she said sarcastically, gesturing to the scenery.

Her text alert beeped. She slowly withdrew it from her pocket and clicked it open:

**Baker Street.  
>Come at once<br>if convenient.  
>- SH<strong>

Julia mentally rolled her eyes.

"I hope I'm not distracting you" the man said carefully, watching her read the text.

"Not at all" she replied calmly and put her phone away.

"Do you plan to continue your association with Sherlock Holmes?" the man demanded.

"I could be wrong" Julia said, forcing herself to not sound like a mad-woman. "But I don't think that's any of your business."

"It could be-"

"It _really_, couldn't."

The man sighed, as if he wished he didn't have to tempt the woman in front of him. He withdrew a light brown leather bound diary and flicked through the pages as he spoke, looking for the reference. "If you do, move into…221b Baker Street, then I'd be happy to pay you a meaningful sum of money on a regular basis to help you ease your way." He snapped the book shut and folded it back into his jacket pocket.

"_Why_?" Julia snapped, feeling that he was prying for information against Sherlock.

"Because you aren't a wealthy young woman" he reasoned, leaning on the umbrella again.

"In exchange for _what_?"

"Information, nothing indiscreet, nothing to make you feel…_uncomfortable_ with-"

"We are not dating, if that's what you are implying" Julia said curtly. "Why do you want me to tell you what he does?"

"I worry about him…constantly" the man seemed quite genuine but sneaky at the same time.

"That's nice of you" she supplied, standing straighter.

"But I would prefer, for various reasons that my concern goes unmentioned…We have what you might call…a _difficult_ relationship." The man said, inspecting his umbrella which he'd lifted to his eyes.

Her phone beeped again. The next message was:

**If inconvenient  
>come anyway.<strong>

**- SH**

"No" Julia said firmly.

"I haven't mentioned a figure" the man was bemused with her.

"Don't bother" Julia snorted.

"You're very loyal, _very_ quickly" the man sounded quite serious.

"Nope, just not at all interested in spying and snooping around for a complete stranger on a person I know very little about, but it's still a bit more than you" Julia stated calmly.

The man inspected Julia for another second before withdrawing the diary again "_Trust issues_, it says here" the man held the book up, and Julia looked at it, confused.

That sounded familiar from somewhere…

"What's that?" she asked; her throat dry.

"Could it be that you have chosen to trust Sherlock Holmes of all people?" the man said incredulously, turning the pages of the diary.

Julia caught a glimpse of the familiar handwriting; it was her therapist's diary, which held all her details and sessions recorded down.

"Who says I trust him?" she said sharply.

"You don't seem the kind to make friends easily…"the man continued, obviously aware of her rising temper. "Even given your daunting past before the war, it says a lot about your personality Dr Watson, your strong moral beliefs and _displeasure_ of your family's company. Has Sherlock Holmes figured out your puzzling life story yet?"

Julia took a steady breath to calm herself. "Are we done?"

"You tell me."

She really wanted to hit him.

Instead, she tilted her head to the side, considered him to be a waste of time and turned around to leave.

"I imagine people have already told you to stay away from Sherlock Holmes. But I can see from your left hand that that isn't going to happen."

_Wait, what?_

Julia glanced at her hand as she stopped and saw it was still. She turned back around to the infuriating man. "What?"

"Show me" the man said calmly. He reminded her of her old dean from her university. She sighed and held up her left hand. The man put away his diary, put his umbrella on his arm and paced towards her silently. He went to touch her hand but she withdrew it sharply. "_Don't_."

He gave her a look which clearly said '_Back down, easily do you?'_

She gave him her hand and he looked at it briefly, barely touching her skin.

"Remarkable" he said, turning away and she heard the smile in his tone.

"What is?" she snapped.

"Most people blunder around this city, and see the streets and the cars and buildings…when you walk with Sherlock Holmes you see the battlefield – you've seen it before."

Julia considered him "What's wrong with my hand?"

"You have an intermittent tremor in your left hand" he said gently yet proudly. "Your therapist thinks its post-traumatic stress disorder, she thinks your haunted by your memories of your military service-"

"Who the HELL are you?" she snapped, louder this time and her blood was pumping with anger and adrenaline. "How do you know that?" she said, in a smaller voice.

"Fire her; she's got it the wrong way round. Your under stress right now and your hand is perfectly steady-"

Julia gulped quietly; she knew he was right in his analysis.

"-You're not _haunted_ by your past Dr Watson…you _miss_ it." He concluded.

Julia didn't know if she should be impressed or disturbed that he knew all this, maybe he was more of authority than she originally thought.

"Welcome back" the man whispered softly, and then started walking away, swinging the umbrella in his hands.

Her phone beeped again.

"Time to choose a side, Dr Watson" the man called as he walked away.

High heeled footsteps came from behind her, Julia turned and 'Anthea' was there, still flipping texting quickly. "I'm to take you home" she said, eyes glued to the device in her hands.

Julia shook her head in disbelief and then checked her mobile. What she read made her grin.

**Could be dangerous.**

**- SH**


	7. Chapter 7: Debate and Discussion

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<br>_

* * *

><p><em>CHAPTER 7: 'Debate and Discussion'<br>_

* * *

><p>After Julia had managed to grab her military gun, place it on her, then return to Baker Street, she was slightly awed by how much could change in one evening.<p>

Stepping through the door to Baker Street, Mrs Hudson beamed at her.

"You alright, sweet?" she said, hugging her again.

Julia smiled and nodded. "I'm fine Mrs Hudson, I'm just going upstairs."

"Sherlock's still up there, he's been quiet for too long, can you check on him?" she asked.

"I'll make the appropriate diagnosis on him Mrs Hudson, yes" she said, smiling and Mrs Hudson looked slightly confused.

Chuckling to herself she hobbled up the stairs and breathed happily once she got to the door or the flat. She composed herself, and then walked inside.

Sherlock was lying along the sofa; his feet just long enough to not fall off the edge. He'd removed his jacket and she could see the faint outlines of his muscles through his white shirt. His eyes were closed, and his hands clasped together.

"What is your diagnosis, Dr Watson?" he asked, lifting one eyelid to look at her. She rolled her eyes and looked at her hand again, instinctively.

"It's Julie" she muttered and staggered towards the window, to peer out.

"_Dr Julie_, then" Sherlock concluded and Julia laughed, shaking her head.

"Oh god" she murmured and turned round to see him; both eyes closed and he was clenching his fists. "What are you doing Sherlock?"

He sighed slowly and lifted the shirt sleeve up to reveal "Nicotine patch."

"Why _three_?"

"It's a three patch problem; it helps me think. Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days." He muttered. "Bad news for brain-work."

"Hmm good day for breathing" Julia said as she sat down on the chair at the desk.

"UGH!" Sherlock cried. "Breathing's boring!"

"Breathing is _compulsory_ to living, Sherlock. Don't argue with a doctor" she said sternly. "_Particularly_, _your_ doctor, now I'm your flatmate, didn't think of that before I moved in" she chuckled at Sherlock's groan.

"Well, you asked me to come…"

Sherlock remained silent, eyes tightly closed and hands tightly clasped together in a prayer motion.

"I'm assuming that it's important…" Julia continued.

Sherlock's eyes popped open as he just remembered something. "Oh yeah, can I borrow your phone?"

"My _phone_?" Julia looked angrily at the man lounged on the sofa. "Are you serious?"

"Cannot use mine, number's on the website, there's always a chance it could be recognized." He said simply, closing his eyes again.

"Mrs Hudson's got a phone hasn't she?" Julia asked, trying to remain calm.

Sherlock carried on in his normal and I-don't-know-others-have-feelings voice. "Yes, she does, I tried shouting, she didn't hear me."

"I was on the other side of London!" she cried.

"There was no hurry" he assured her, in what he thought was a nicer tone.

Julia took a deep breath and then withdrew her phone and shoved it towards him. He took the phone without manners and she had to girt her teeth together to remain composed.

"So was this about the case?" Julia asked smoothly.

"Her case?" Sherlock whispered, his mind clearly deeply processing something.

"Her case?" Julia repeated.

"Yes" Sherlock snapped, irritated. "Her suitcase obviously! The murder took her suitcase; first big mistake."

Julia rolled her eyes, still angry and hearing the mysterious man's warnings about Sherlock.

"Ok, so he took her case, big deal – _what are you rambling on about now, Sherlock_?" Julia said, getting feisty already.

"There's no other way, we're going to have to risk it" Sherlock muttered, distracted. The he said in a louder voice to Julia "On my desk, there's a number I want you to send a text." He held out her phone.

Julia squeezed her eyes shut tightly for a long moment before slowly saying, in a forcefully calm voice. "You made me come back all this way, to send a text?"

"Yes, is that a problem?"

Sherlock's tone was unfazed and slightly and truthfully confused.

Julia sighed louder this time and gazed out of the window at the street outside; it was darker now and the streetlights illuminated the street brightly.

"What's wrong?" came his sharp voice.

"Just met a friend of yours" she said slowly, "only I reckon he isn't the enemy you two make each other as."

"Why? Is this my arch-enemy?"

Julia laughed. "I cannot believe I figured that out so quickly!"

Sherlock sat bolt upright on the sofa and gave her the most worried look she'd ever seen him do.

"Did he offer you money to spy on me? Because if he did, he's the most dangerous man, yet not my concern right now…"

She smiled widely and shook her head. "He…well...Is he _really_ all that dangerous?"

Sherlock cleared his throat, deciding to distract Julia from her madness, but secretly pleased if she'd worked out she'd discovered that she'd met his older brother.

"_What have I got myself into?_" she muttered as she grabbed the phone from him and went to the desk, seeing a pink label of a suitcase. In her old army habit, she read the full piece of paper.

"Jennifer Wilson…" That name rang a bell.

"That's the dead woman-"

Sherlock was even more impatient now as he resumed his causal pose. "It doesn't matter, just enter the number."

Julia shook her head again and typed the number in quickly.

"Are you doing it?" Sherlock demanded.

"Yep-" she said, on the fourth number.

"Have you done it?"

"Yeah, _hang_ on!" Julia snapped. "You're so _bossy_!"

"Is that an issue, Julie?" Sherlock asked, innocently.

Julia looked at him sharply as she would her commanding general and mock saluted him with her finger touching the corner of her eye (not a proper salute). "_No sir_!"

Sherlock smirked at her. They had a staring contest for ten seconds before Sherlock continued in an equally ordering tone. "These words precisely. 'What happened at Lauristion Gardens? I must have blacked out. 22 Northumberland Street, please come."

Sherlock energetically jumped up, over the coffee table and strode into the adjoining kitchen. "Just hurry up, type it and then send it!"

"Yes Sherlock, No Sherlock, Three bags of wool Sherlock" she muttered distractedly as she texted. She heard and sensed Sherlock remerging around and grabbing the seat from the desk beside her. She sent the text and then turned at the sound of a zipper.

Sherlock had balanced on the chair, a bright vibrant pink suitcase.

"Please tell me that isn't _her_ case Sherlock" she moaned.

"Yes it is" Sherlock said, riffling through it quickly.

He sighed and then put his hands together.

The silence thickened and stretched on while Julia looked at him, worryingly.

"Oh, should I mention, I didn't kill her" he said sarcastically.

"Never said you did!" Julia said, holding her hands up in surrender.

"Why not? Given the text I just had you send is a perfectly logical assumption?" His eyes zeroed in on hers and he attempted to read her thoughts.

Another silence followed this.

"Do people often think you're the murderer?" Julia said, slowly, sitting down opposite him and dropping the cane at once.

"Now and again…yes" Sherlock admitted before looking through the bag again.

He went to open her toilet bag. Julia slapped his hand away. "_Sherlock_!"

"_What_?" he yelped, looking up at her and nursing his hand to his chest.

She scoffed and then stared at him. Sargent Donovan's words rang through her head, but she trusted Sherlock.

"You can't go through a woman's suitcase! And why on earth would a _woman_, leave her mobile in her _toiletry_ bag? It would get wet! And water, _damages_ phones!""

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.

_Speechless_, at bloody last, she should get some champagne.

Instead, Julia smiled at him before taking the small bag and opened it herself. He looked about to protest but she just gave him a look to say 'I'm a woman myself'.

Her bag contained the essentials and she took them out as she named them out loud.

"Shampoo…Conditioner…Body Wash…Razor…Hair Straighteners…and a Roll-On" she said. Then she caught sight of his face. "What's up?"

Sherlock had his gaze locked on the razor.

"What are you gaping at?"

Sherlock looked calculating. "Why does she have a razor? Why would a woman have a-?"

Julia burst out laughing, clutching her sides and her eyes watered. The look of befuddlement on his face was too priceless.

"Oh dear, Sherlock" she said after minute's laughter. "You are priceless, woman shave as well! It isn't _just_ a men's product."

"Yeah well, somebody said that we go round the Sun, doesn't mean I have to believe it." Sherlock muttered, putting his hands together.

Julia's mouth popped open with an audible pop.

"You don't know about the Solar System?"

"Why should that matt-" Sherlock started to say but Julia scoffed again.

"Why have you got the case?" she interrupted him, deciding that this case was more important at the moment. "How and where did you find it?"

"By looking" he stated simply. "The killer must have driven her to Laurestion Gardens - and he could only keep her case by accident if it was in a car – Nobody can be seen with case without drawing attention, especially a man, which is statistically more likely.

"So obviously he felt more compelled to be rid of it."

Julia (or rather, her other senses, that weren't focussed on his speaking) were drawing the attention of how his voice got deeper and lower the more concentrated he was and the easier something was to recite to her. His hands were clasped together (yet again) and his muscles in his shoulders and arms were leaner than when he wore a smart jacket over the shirt.

"It wouldn't have taken him more than five minutes to realise his mistake. I checked every backstreet wide enough to reverse a car five minutes from Lauristan Gardens without being disturbed by depositing a bulky object, took me less than an hour to find the right skip."

"So, you got all that, because you knew the case would be _pink_?" Julia said, studying the suitcase and then understanding how Sherlock must have made that link. "Like you said early on, that she colour coordinated her make-up, as well as her shoes and clothes. I'm a woman for crying out loud – why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you're an idiot" Sherlock stated quickly which made her look at him, wondering why he'd say that.

"No, don't be like that, practically everyone is" he assured her, waving a hand vaguely at her.

He was trying not to offend her; she must be a good assistant.

"Now you understand her phone is missing, where do you think it is?"

"I don't know" Julia said sarcastically. "_Maybe it was in the bushes_, how on earth would I know?" she said, furrowing her brow.

"You're a woman; you might be able to understand her pattern!" Sherlock said desperately.

"I'm flattered" she said blankly, rubbing her fingers over her lips. "When I had a phone on me all the time, I didn't really keep it in a handbag, I always-" she found her phone from her left hand jeans pocket. "-put it here, mainly because I could tell when somebody texted me. She comes across as a discreet woman, yet she has no pockets, and she still had no handbag on her. She must have _constantly_ been on it – being a woman who wore a skirt, and judging by her overnight clothes, more skirts -, it must be important, her _pride and joy_ if she gave no space for it to be out her grasp…" Julia trailed on, thinking.

_Silence_.

She turned to him "Sorry, I do end up going off on a tangent, just shut me up, I waffle…"

"No" Sherlock said, quietly and searching her features again. Julia felt irritated with his scanning method. "It's just, you're a lot more-"

He was cut off by her phone ringing.

Julia looked at her phone, then to the case, and then to the label with the phone number on it, and then back to the phone, quickly summing the situation up.

"Did I just text a murderer?" she gasped; horror-struck that a person who killed _innocent_ people was on the other end of the line.

"Well the murderer has the phone, more than likely. Most people if they found a phone would leave it…"Sherlock said thinking. "But the murderer…would panic!"

"What does this mean?" she asked, struggling to get up. Sherlock was already donned in his jacket, scarf and coat. He hoisted her up and gave the cane back to her as he said.

"We've got to go!"

"Should we call the police?" Julia asked, steadying herself and her phone rang off.

"Four people are dead, there's no time to call the police." He said smartly, sliding his gloves on.

"Then why are you talking to me!" she exclaimed, flattered and confused at once.

"Mrs Hudson took my skull" Sherlock said quietly but it wasn't full-hearted.

"So I'm filling in for a skull?" she asked.

"Relax" he said, and somehow she did. His voice was oddly soothing for her. "You're doing fine."

Julia sighed, trying to ignore Donovan's words.

"Is Donovan right?" she asked. "My senses are telling me that she's a nasty cow but do you really get high on this?"

Sherlock huffed a laugh. "Remember Julie, that I said '_dangerous'_ and here you are!"

Julia rolled her eyes and cursed "_Dammit_!"

"Come on" he said and helped her down the stairs quickly, thinking it was better to assist her and avoid injury on the way down.


	8. Chapter 8: Wild Goose Chase

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

* * *

><p><em>CHAPTER 8: Wild Goose Chase<br>_

* * *

><p>Sherlock was striding, his long legs walking practically a yard in each couple of steps and with her stride a lot shorter (despite being tall for her age) mainly due her ridiculous limp.<p>

But as she thought about it more, it felt that her leg was a bit steadier than it was beforehand. Beforehand, being, before she'd met this wildly amazing man, yet flawed.

"Sherlock for god's sakes" she panted slightly, her heart pumping quicker than usual. "Can you take _smaller_ steps and appreciate that you have a _cripple_ fighting to keep up?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and jokingly too deliberately slow-motioned short steps.

"Stop being a prat" she muttered as she slowed herself, yet still struggling to match his pace.

"Where are we going anyway?" she asked.

"Northumberland Street, it's a five minute walk from here" Sherlock said, clasping his gloved hands together and then continued "I _love_ the brilliant ones—they're always so desperate to get caught!" he muttered, distractedly.

"Why are they _brilliant_? They kill people!" Julia asked, limping steadily along.

"You did" Sherlock pointed out and Julia felt a stab of hurt bounce from his words.

She gulped and tried to compose her face. "I saved more" she said defensively, keeping her eyes straight ahead, not looking at the taller man next to her.

Sherlock threw a glance at her which she didn't see, pondering on his words and trying to understand the pure _venom_ in her tone.

"Have I upset you?" he asked carefully, as he stopped walking.

She halted as well and still refused to look at him. "_Nope_" she said firmly.

"Then look at me then" he said softly, a completely unfamiliar voice for him.

She looked at him quickly, and then looked away again.

It was enough for Sherlock to gauge the look of hurt and pain displayed there. Sherlock was surprised to feel a foreign…_emotion_ in the pit of his stomach. It was a limp and numbly unpleasant feeling and he could literal feel it writhe uncomfortably there.

_Regret_, he thought quickly and the seconds ticked by.

He heard Julia sigh and sensed she was fighting off oncoming tears. He didn't want her to cry, mainly because he'd have _no idea_ what to do and secondly because it seemed foreign to imagine this strong woman break down so quickly.

"Are we going to try and capture this serial killer or would you rather stand here and throw more _careless_ comments my way, not fully realising what you're saying!" Julia snarled, looking at the ground.

_Stop it_, she thought furiously.

Trying to ignore the blinding hurt pulsing in her stomach, she tried to clear her head and push it aside for the moment. She could corner him later about it. Also she was fully aware of their surroundings and she was acting like a four-year old making her face burned in embarrassment.

But his comments had brought back memories of her friends who she hadn't got to in time to save them. She took another deep breath and exhaled slowly.

She heard Sherlock gulp and looked up at him, narrowing her eyes. She was breathing deeply, her chest heaving up and down heavily.

"I meant…not that you _intentionally_ killed, I mean-" Sherlock said slowly, spotting his mistake. "That was…slightly _thoughtless_ of me."

"Sherlock" she said, her tone sour. "We'll discuss this later, when you've had your fun and sorted this out. Let's not lose him." She stated, wishing that they'd continued walking.

Sherlock nodded and was thankful she had said that. He could have time to find his words.

"You were saying that they were _brilliant_…?" Julia probed as they continued walking, more quickly. Sherlock looked at her and grabbed her hand, hauling her along as he went into a slow jog.

"They want _applause_, appreciation for their cleverness. This person has managed to murder four people without, _as far as reports go_, touching them" Sherlock said, his mind firmly on the case again.

"Think" he said suddenly, a frustrated expression in place. "Who passes almost _invisibly_, and that we trust at once without question? Someone who hunts in a crowded place? All the victims disappeared surrounded by people!"

"So you're saying the murderer is _invisible_? In an invisible _car_?" Julia asked sketchily and remembering what he'd said earlier.

"Yes."

"Any idea _who_?" Julia continued after a second's pause.

"Haven't the foggiest" he said promptly, lifting his head and shooting her his crooked grin. "_Hungry_?"

* * *

><p>A few minutes later, they arrived at a small restaurant. Sherlock walked in without question and Julia followed, smiling at the detective when he held the door open for her.<p>

He may be a thoughtless person; she thought as she followed his lead and sat down in the window seat. But he's still a gentleman.

"What would you like?" Sherlock asked, not bothering to look at the prices or words on the piece of card on the table.

"I'm fine Sherlock" she said, rolling her eyes and glad that she wasn't hungry. "but as we're just sitting here, you can buy me a drink."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and a middle aged man walked to their table, a look of unconditional joy on his face.

"_Ah_ Mr Holmes! How good to see your face again!"

Sherlock –_would you believe it?-_ looked a little embarrassed and gave Julia a look. She snorted, looking out of the window.

The man walked over to Sherlock and embraced him thoroughly, beaming like he'd just won the lottery. "And who is your lovely lady you've brought to my establishment?"

Julia wondered if she should blush or not.

Sherlock was about to speak but the man cut him off, addressing Julia.

"Nice to meet you madam, my name is Angelo, and this – _this man!_ – is a god sent message of goodness!"

Julia fought really hard not to laugh.

It was so difficult, the look of Sherlock's face was even funnier than when he'd found out about woman having razors. She smiled politely, and Sherlock could tell she was fighting hard not to burst into giggles.

"Nice to know that Sherlock is so…_helpful_" she said, her smile becoming looser ever second. She was going to lose her control in a minute.

"He got me off a murder charge!" the man looked so happy, squeezing Sherlock's shoulders and Sherlock looks quite flustered.

_ Aww, he looks cute like that_, she thought. _Wait, wait?_

"What can I getta you, madam?" the man released Sherlock (whom took a deep breath to gain oxygen) and withdrew a worn and torn pad to take orders on.

"Just water please" she said, feeling on the spot. _Hmm what it felt like to be Sherlock._

He jotted it down and said, quite forcefully. "You not eat again, Mr Sherlock?"

Julia raised an eyebrow, her doctor-mode switching on and tilted her head to gauge his reaction. Sherlock shook his head once, the flustered look still in place as he tried hopelessly to rid himself of it. He decided to look out of the window onto the busy street instead.

"I'll get you a candle, yes senor?" Angelo said, as in confirming something via the detective.

"I'm not his date" Julia said firmly, smiling pleasantly. "I'm Julia."

Angelo smiled sadly at her. "Nice to meet you, I would have thought your name would go well with Sherlock's."

Now it was Julia's turn to be flustered.

"_Excuse_ me?" she said, in shock.

She was well aware of the vibrant blush on her face, even in the '_romantic'_ semi darkness of the Italian restaurant.

"_Mrs Julia Holmes_, what a nice ring" Angelo sighed, oblivious to Sherlock's rumbling laughter and Julia's sputters. "I will be back ina momento."

Then he walked briskly away to another table.

Julia watched him walk away, humiliated and bright beetroot. Then she rounded on Sherlock, still laughing hard.

"_Un-bloody-believable_!" she said, still dazed and shaking her head.

"I agree with him" Sherlock said, jokingly, enjoying the shade of red blush on her face and her obvious outrage.

Julia blushed a deeper red and moaned, putting her head in her hands, some of her hair falling down to cover her ears. Sherlock watched the movement, puzzled and then looked sharply out of the window.

Then her head shot back up again, looking for his reaction carefully.

"Do you mean that you agree that I'm your date, that my name is nicer with your surname next to it, or his wish to make the mood romantic, and put a candle-" she was cut off by Angelo walking over and planting a small candle on the table and giving her a thumbs up before walking away quickly. "-on the table" she finished in a low dangerous voice.

Sherlock had continued laughing and she glared at him.

"No, you agree his ploy to make it a _hilarious_ situation" she muttered, shaking her head again.

"Do you agree with him?" Sherlock asked, smirking at her.

She narrowed her eyes. "I haven't forgiven you yet, and also, _just for the record_, if I said my name was nicer with your surname, then it would have been _after_ I'd had the name changed!" she said, raising an eyebrow and sipping the glass of water Angelo had delivered with the candle.

"That won't happen" he said quickly. "I'm not into dating."

"Then tell him to stop embarrassing me if we walk in here again!" she snapped. Then her brow furrowed. "You're not into dating, why's that? Don't you have girlfriend?"

"No" he said, looking out the window.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" she asked, her tone just as equal as before.

"No."

"Oh, so unattached, just like me" she said, looking out the window as she sipped her water. It was only as Sherlock started speaking, that she realised how suggestive her words had been. She looked up and his face looked uncomfortable and mainly conflicted.

"As flattered as I am Julie and you're a good-looking woman, I consider myself married to my job so-"

"_No_" Julia said hurriedly, realising her mistake. "I didn't mean it like an offer, I just saying. Even if you were like that I'd be totally ok with it."

"Why would you say that?" Sherlock was even more confused.

Julia sighed heavily before looking him straight in the face. "My brother is gay, Sherlock. I had to get used to the idea and so _therefore_, if you bring another man home, I won't freak out and call you hurtful names as that isn't. how. I. act." She said clearly and feeling embarrassed that she'd assumed.

Sherlock looked flustered again. Inside his mind, he was whirling the fact that she had admitted it ok if he was different, and she wouldn't judge him on sexuality…IF he had one.

"I'm asexual" he said and saw a taxi pull up at 22 Northumberland Street, stop and nobody coming out.

Julia choked on her drink and nodded as she covered her mouth as to not cough all over him. "Got it" she wheezed and attempted to even her breathing again.

"Julie" Sherlock said with a slightly whiney tone. She looked up then out the window where the taxi was still parked. It clicked.

"A _taxi_!" she exclaimed and hurried her jacket on again. Sherlock had grabbed his coat, scarf and jumped out of his seat and out the door in five seconds.

Julia jumped up herself and followed him outside, whom she watched clear a car bonnet and she bounded after him without argument.

The taxi, after a moment, then started pulling away, a man inside it looking curiously.

Julia felt her blood pumping round her body quickly and frantically, as if she was a on a sort of drug. "I got the cab number" she gasped as she slowed to a halt next to the detective.

"Good for you" Sherlock said; clenching his eyes shut as he muttered aloud to himself, like he had a map of the city around the city. "_Right turn, one way, roadwork's, traffic lights, bus lane, pedestrian crossing, left turn only, traffic lights-"_

His eyes snapped open and he dashed off, leaving Julia to instinctively bolt after him.

The fact that her legs were long and she'd been good at running when she was a school and during her army days, she was as fit and able to keep up with Sherlock as he dodged down an alley, avoiding a car coming out of it, running up a long spiral slippery staircase and running along the smooth concrete roofs of the buildings around.

"Come on Julie!" he called behind him.

But he was surprised to see she was able to keep up with him and became smug when he realised that he'd cured her danger less-induced limp in her left leg.

Another small spiral staircase, over a black slick with rain fence, neatly avoiding a fatal drop down three floors and skipping across the gap easily.

More stairs, more stairs, dashing along another two roofs connected to each other.

But then there was a longer and much bigger gap and they were now five floors up, the gap so large, you could see the entire street below them. Sherlock cleared it gracefully, but even Julia halted, taking a deep breath and willing herself to back up and jump.

Sherlock's voice urged her on "_Come on Julie_, we're losing him!"

Julia took another deep breath and took five steps back before bounding over, landing as gracefully as the taller man and continued sprinting after said man.

She caught up with him and he grabbed her wrist, bringing her faster before he started to descend another three sets of spiral staircases. They were a floor up and Sherlock dropped down onto a ledge and then jumped to street level.

He turned (always the gentleman, even in the heat of the chase) and as Julia leapt, he caught her and placed her quickly on the concrete before turning and chasing the cabbie which had gone past the opening to the alley they were in.

More frantic running down side-street after alleyway and Julia felt her pulse racing wildly; much more so than when she'd been under heavy fire in the heat of a desert battle. She felt so giddy with danger and adrenaline she felt drunk.

Her lungs were protesting and her legs were sore from running so quickly. Something seemed off and different to Julia and she couldn't place her finger on it.

A car honked its horn and Julia gasped in horror as Sherlock dived in front of an oncoming taxi (the one they'd been chasing) and the vehicle halted to a standstill.

"_Police_!" Sherlock yelled, holding up (what Julia presumed to be) an ID card.

_But where would he get a Police ID card?_ "Open up!"

He flung himself at the car and opened the back passenger door. There was a few seconds pause as Sherlock scanned the man and groaned in disappointment.

Julia appeared, panting, flushed red, and completely out of breath as she clutched her chest, a stitch having appeared in her side. "W-what is it?" she gasped, smiling breathlessly at the passenger.

"No, teeth, tan, What Californian?" Sherlock analysed, speaking to the bewildered looking passenger.

He, to Julia's books, couldn't the killer, he was defiantly American. "LA, Santa Monica, just arrived!" Sherlock panted to Julia.

"How can you tell?"

"The luggage!" Sherlock said, his body still not recovered from the frantic running either. "Probably, your first trip to London right?" he said to the still confused male passenger. "Going by your final destination and the cabbie's route?"

"Sorry, are you the police?" he asked in a strong and puzzled American accent. Julia smiled weakly at him.

"Yeah" Sherlock said, flashing the ID before him. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah" the man said tensely.

Sherlock's breathing was slightly less haggard "Welcome to London" he said cheerfully before walking off the side.

Julia stepped forward and rolled her eyes. "Any problems, the let us know" she said in her pleasantly charming tone, before slamming the cab's door shut in the still confused look of the passenger.

Sherlock was standing to the side and Julia walked up to him and he met her gaze and she smirked, still breathing heavily. "Basically, a cab that had just slowed down!" she briefed him.

"Not the murderer, _no_" Sherlock agreed, he was still panting.

"Hey, where did you get this?" Julia asked, taking Sherlock's gloved hand steadily and sliding her hand on the leather material to take the pass from him.

_Was it her or did she hear a falter in Sherlock's breathing_? She shrugged.

She opened it up and snorted. "Detective Inspector Lestrade, where did you get this?"

"I pickpocket him when he's annoying" Sherlock said lightly. "You keep that one, I've got plenty of them at the flat."

Julia smiled weakly before placing it into her jacket pocket.

Then she snorted and chuckled loudly. "_Welcome to London_" she repeated him and he grinned before looking back at the cab, an actual WPC was standing there, speaking to the American.

"Got your breath back?" he asked.

"Ready when you are, darling" she said affectionately and he sniggered, before grabbing her wrist and they sprinted back to the flat.

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR's NOTES: I love writing these two (and btw - Sherlock isn't used to any contact, let alone, a woman's) their such a pair - you are going to love the next chapter! ;) Thanks for reviews! xxx<strong>


	9. Chapter 9: The SoCalled Drug's Bust

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

* * *

><p><em>CHAPTER 9: 'The So-Called Drug's Bust'<br>_

* * *

><p>The door to 221b Baker Street slammed behind Julia as she stumbled into the building and hung her leather jacket up, revealing her red jumper, which was thick yet tight fitting.<p>

She followed Sherlock who collapsed against the wall at the bottom of the stairs as he hung his coat on the banister of the stairs.

He gave her one proud look and she smiled back, still sensing that something wasn't quite right. "That" she gasped, leaning against the wall, almost touching the tall detective. "was the most stupid and reckless thing I have ever done!"

"Was it worth it?" Sherlock asked his rumbling amusement in his voice. She looked up at him and then giggle hysterically.

"Why aren't we back at the restaurant?" she gasped, after she tried calming herself. "And when I'm this giggly?" she then snorted in amusement of her own question.

"They can look out" Sherlock said. "We were just passing the time…and proving a point."

Sherlock's voice was full of pride, relief and excitement as Julia looked up at him.

"What point?" she said, breathing gradually slowly.

"You" Sherlock answered and without missing a beat, he called "Mrs Hudson! Dr Watson _will_ take the room upstairs!"

Julia paused before looking up at Sherlock's face again, taking in the light that seemed to emit from his bright blue eyes.

"Says who?"

"The man at the door!" Sherlock cried happily.

Somebody knocked the door. Julia gave Sherlock one curious look before walking down the hall to the front door and opening it slowly, to reveal Angelo.

"Sherlock texted me" cried the happy Italian. "He saida, you forgot this."

Julia looked down, and to her utter astonishment, spotted her cane in his hands. Julia audibly gasped and threw a look over her shoulder at the gleeful (and still proud) look on Sherlock's face. Her own face broke into a radiant grin.

The satisfaction that she wasn't crippled by that stupid injury was a weight lifted right off her shoulders. She felt like crying.

She extended a shaky hand and took the cane from him. "Th-thank you very much" she stuttered and Angelo smiled at her before departing.

She closed the door and walked back to Sherlock. He was still grinning.

"You-" she said slowly, giving him her most dazzling smile she could manage. "-are utterly amazing" she finished before she leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Sherlock, clearly stunned had frozen and she rolled her eyes before she threw the cane in the corner of the hallway.

Mrs Hudson's front door opened and she looked really upset.

"Sherlock what have you done?" she wailed.

Sherlock looked concerned and confused at the same time. "Mrs Hudson?"

"Upstairs" she added. Sherlock bolted up the stairs at once, Julia quick on his heels.

Sherlock flung open the door so hard it slammed against the wall and Julia cringed.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock growled at Lestrade who was lounging casually in Sherlock's favourite seat next to the fire.

"Well I knew you'd find the case, I'm not stupid!" Lestrade answered and then waved one hand at Julia. She ignored him and turned the corner to the kitchen.

_Oh Christ, Anderson,_ Sherlock is going to erupt.

"You can't just break into my flat!" Sherlock sounded outraged.

"Well you can't without evidence!" Lestrade replied. "And I didn't break in!"

Sherlock's voice got louder and Julia felt the tension from his annoyance surround her. "Well what do you call this then?"

"It's a drugs bust!" Lestrade stated.

Julia's eyes widened in disbelief. "_What_? Seriously? This guy – an _addict_?" she said, slightly amused.

"Julie" Sherlock murmured. Julia eyed him warily now, wondering if she should shut up. Her eyes widened in surprise "No…"

"What?" Sherlock said innocently. He was so close to her that she could smell his husky scent, some expensive aftershave no doubt.

"_You_…?"

"Shut up!" Sherlock snarled (and she knew he was just being defensive) and rounded on Lestrade again. "I'm not your sniffer dog!"

Lestrade smirked and nodded towards the kitchen and Julia waited for the oncoming explosion. "No, Anderson is my sniffer dog!"

Sherlock whirled round to see Anderson next to Donovan, looking in the microwave. Anderson waved comically (not) at the outraged detective.

"Anderson, what are you doing on a drugs bust?" Sherlock shouted.

"Oh I volunteered" his snide nasal voice replied. Julia snorted and heard Lestrade say "They all volunteered. They're not, strictly speaking, on the drug squad, but their all very keen-"

Julia snorted even louder now, they all looked at her.

"Oh please, I've know this man-" she pointed at Sherlock. "-less than a day and already I get the feeling that you want to get some sort of payback on Sherlock as no doubt he's made some snide and honest dig at you sometime in the past. Am I wrong?" she rounded on Lestrade herself, hands on hips and her eyes blazing.

Lestrade winched at her tone and mutely nodded. Julia rolled her eyes.

"Are these human eyes?" Donovan asked, her heels echoing throughout the small space as she held up what looked like a packet of floating eyeballs.

Sherlock was beyond livid. "Put those back!"

"They were in the microwave!" she retaliated.

"They were an experiment!" he snapped.

"I cannot believe you're doing this!" Sherlock started pacing, as he growled at Lestrade. "This is childish."

Lestrade stood up, taking control of the situation. "Yeah when I'm dealing with a child- Look Sherlock, this is our case, but I'm letting you in on my own head, you do not go off on your own!"

"Oh so you set up a pretend drug's bust to bully me?" Sherlock retaliated.

Julia could see where his 'childish' streak came in but she wasn't bothered.

"It stops me pretending to find anything" Lestrade muttered.

"I am clean!" Sherlock yelled, still clearly frustrated.

"Is your flat, all of it?" Lestrade looked at Julia. "Is your flatmate?"

"Oh do use your common sense!" Julia snapped, her impatience leaving her. "I've been serving in the war for the past six years – _when_, out of the time I needed to save soldiers' lives, did it occur to you that I'd have time to smoke a cigarette, let along inject heroin! The last time I was high, it was on morphine in the hospital two weeks ago when I was _shot_!" she shouted, clearly in her element. "And if you think that my life was _easy_ – you have _seriously_ underestimated what being a solider is all about!"

There was a still silence after these words.

Lestrade looked slightly abashed. Sherlock looked impressed. Donovan looked stunned and Julia was still fuming.

"He doesn't even smoke!" she cried exasperatedly.

"How can you tell?" Lestrade asked.

"I'm a doctor, so therefore can detect a smoker quite easily she said simply. "and the fact that he's wearing three nicotine patches might be a hint."

Lestrade looked put out and rolled up his own sleeve to reveal his own. "Neither do I" he said to Sherlock. "So let's work together."

Sherlock grunted and glowered at Anderson.

"We found Rachel" Lestrade piped up.

Sherlock turned round instantly, all anger gone and interest replaced it. "Who is she?"

"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter."

"Her daughter?" Sherlock was confused, clearly trying to work out how emotions worked without involving sentiment. "Why would she write her daughter's name? _Why_?"

"Who cares, we found the case?" Anderson butted in. "According to someone, the murderer has the case, and we've found it in the hands of our favourite psychopath!"

Sherlock whirled at him in a low and foreboding voice that questioned his answer "Not a psychopath, I'm a high-functioning sociopath, do your research!"

He turned back to Lestrade "You need to bring Rachel in to question her, I need to question her."

Lestrade sighed.

"There has to be a connection, have you found one."

"I doubt it, since she's been dead for fourteen years" he answered. "Technically, she was never alive."

Sherlock looked puzzled. Julia felt dread leak into her stomach.

Lestrade directed his answer towards Julia and she gulped. "Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, fourteen years ago."

"_Oh_" Julia said, feeling great pity towards the dead woman. That could explain why she became a serial adulterer.

"Wh-_what_, why?" Sherlock stammered, utterly confused.

"Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments?" Anderson said sarcastically. "Sociopath, I'm seeing it now."

"She didn't think about her daughter; she scratched her name on the wooden floorboards with her fingernails, it would have hurt. She was dying." He started pacing.

Julia said gently "You said that the murderer makes them take the poison, which he makes them take it themselves. That sounds like he threatens them and forces them to take it. Maybe he talks to them, makes them depressed to actually kill themselves and Rachel was the thing that drove her guilt or regret or something..?"

"That was ages ago!" Sherlock said carelessly. "Why would she _still_ be upset?"

Another silence.

Julia looked down and then sighed heavily.

"Not good?" Sherlock said slowly.

Julia nodded; pursing her lips tightly "A bit, not good, yes."

Sherlock stood before her, trying to understand. "Yeah but if you were dying, why would you say?"

Julia looked down again and willed herself to remain strong. She was such a wimp today.

"Please God, let me live?" she said, confused.

"Use your imagination!" Sherlock hissed.

Julia narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't have to." She said firmly.

"Yeah, but if you were clever, really clever, Jennifer Wilson, running all those lovers, she was clever. She'd trying to tell us something!" He resumed his pacing.

Mrs Hudson spoke behind Julia and she turned. "Isn't your doorbell working, your taxi's here Sherlock."

"I didn't order a taxi, go away!" he snapped harshly.

Julia gave Mrs Hudson a apologise look and watched Sherlock pacing up and across the living room.

"Oh dear, they're making such a mess!" Mrs Hudson moaned. "What are they looking for?"

Julia coughed slightly "It's a drugs bust, Mrs Hudson."

She gasped "But they're just for my hip, they herbal soothers…"

Julia was about to reply and say something comforting but at that moment Sherlock roared "SHUT UP EVERYBODY! DON'T BREATH, DON'T MOVE, DON'T SPEAK! ANDERSON, FACE THE OTHER WAY, I'M TRYING TO THINK! YOU'RE PUTTING ME OFF!"

"_What_?" his nasal tone replied. "My face is?"

Julia rounded on him "One word and I will not hesitate to knock you out" she threatened and that seemed as good a threat than anything the others could say.

Nobody knew how she acted, but they'd seen only a hint of her feisty temper when she'd snapped at Lestrade.

"What about your taxi?" Mrs Hudson whispered.

Sherlock turned to her "_MRS HUDSON_!"

She jumped and dashed away down the stairs. It was silent again.

Sherlock gasped and Julia turned to look at him, standing near the desk.

"Ah, of course, she was clever, clever yes! She's clever than you lot and she's dead! Don't you see, don't you get it?"

Julia looked at the others in the room and spoke for them. "No, spill the beans then."

"She never lost her phone, she didn't lose it, she _planted_ it on him!" Sherlock burst out. Julia let out an "_Ohhh_" in understanding but Lestrade still looked confused.

"When she got out of the car, she knew she was going to her death so she left her phone in order to lead us to her killer!"

The others were starting to get it but Julia was smiling widely at Sherlock. She jumped up and went to the suitcase and withdrew the piece of paper with details on it. She then went to Sherlock's netbook, open on the desk and started typing.

"How can she get it, and you can't?" Sherlock exclaimed, amazed for one that Julia understood him.

"_Because_" she said as she clicked and typed. "When you told me to send the text to her phone, I read the whole piece of paper, old habit. It has her email on it…_which_…or shall Sherlock tell you?"

The others were all clueless.

"Oh my god, look at you all, your all so vacant, is it nice not being me all the time, it must be so relaxing" he snorted.

Julia typed the email in and smiled.

Sherlock continued "She didn't have a laptop, which means she did all her business on her phone. So it's a smart-phone and email enabled. So there was a website for her account. The username is her email address and altogether her password is…?"

"_Rachel_" Lestrade said, finally seeing the point.

Anderson drawled "So we can read her emails, so what?"

Julia gritted her teeth together to stop insulting Anderson herself.

Sherlock beat her to it anyway and what an insult. "Anderson, don't talk out loud – you lower the IQ of an entire street!"

Julia snorted.

He continued "We can do much more than read her emails, it a smart-phone so it got GPS, which means if you lose it, you can locate it online. She's leading us directly to the man who killed her and the other three!"

"And we know he didn't get rid of the phone" Julia added.

"Sherlock, dear, This taxi driver…" came Mrs Hudson's voice.

"Mrs Hudson, isn't it time for your evening soother?" Sherlock asked smartly and turned back to the laptop which had now started bleeping as its connection tracked the phone.

Julia watched the netbook intently as it zeroed in on a zoomed out version map of London. Then it started zooming in closer…and closer….and closer until…

"Sherlock?" she said calmly, the bleeping getting louder.

He approached her and put his hand on the back of the chair "Where is it Julie?"

"Here…It's in 221b Baker Street" she said blankly.

"How can it be here?" Sherlock said, distracted.

"Well, maybe it was in the case when you brought it back…" Lestrade said slowly. "and it fell out somewhere?"

"And I didn't notice it?" Sherlock snapped.

Lestrade addressed his volunteers "Guys, we're also looking for a mobile here, belonged to the victim."

Julia was refreshing the page so therefore didn't spot Sherlock go into a trance like state and walk slowly from the room.

"Sherlock," she asked, noticing his odd behaviour. "Are you ok?"

"What..?" he said more spaced out than before. She turned around fully to face him but he was turned away. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

"So why do you think the phone's locating it's here?" she asked gently.

Sherlock didn't hear her.

"I'll try it again, alright?" she probed.

"Good idea" he whispered and she stood, wondering if she should leave him or not. She decided that he could fend for himself. If not, then she'd be there.

"Where are you going?"

"Fresh air, just popping outside, won't be long!" he called, too causally. She had a bad feeling about this.

She felt her gut sinking as she watched him descend the stairs and a few seconds later; she heard the door slam shut. Sighing she went back to his netbook.


	10. Chapter 10: A Study of Loyalty

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

* * *

><p><em>CHAPTER 10: A Study of Loyalty<br>_

* * *

><p>As Julia was phoning the pink phone, she looked out of the window and saw Sherlock stepping into the cab and then driving off.<p>

"It's Sherlock, he just drove off in a cab" she said to the others.

"Didn't I say he did that?" Donovan said.

"Did I say I cared what you thought Donovan…_hmmm_ believe that was a NO" Julia snapped back and glared at her.

Donovan rolled her eyes. "We're wasting our time! Let's leave it! It smells in this kitchen!"

Lestrade looked at Julia and she sighed.

"I'm going to go after him" Julia said after a moment's hesitation.

Lestrade looked worried "No, you can do that Julia! He's a murderer."

Julia picked up the laptop and was glad that Sherlock paid for a memory stick of internet connection. She also grabbed Sherlock's blue scarf that he'd left behind, knowing he'd want it later. It must have been a comfort thing for him. She grabbed a small pouch bag that was empty and had her name printed on it. Clearly a welcome present from Mrs Hudson.

She half heard Lestrade and Donovan speaking, and then deciding to quit and leave the flat. As far as Julia cared, if Donovan crossed the threshold of the flat again, she'd get a slap in the face.

Lestrade was putting his coat on and Julia was impatient for him to leave.

"Why did he have to do that?" Lestrade complained. "Leave us?"

"You'd know him better than me" Julia said simply. "I met his yesterday and I've only been round him since late afternoon."

"Hmm what a date" Lestrade joked.

Her face hardened. "He isn't a date, I'm his new flatmate and that's it."

"I've known Sherlock Holmes for five years, and I'm desperate because I know he's a great man-" Lestrade pointed out as he straightened his coat and Julia nodded.

"-maybe one day, he'll be a good one" he finished.

Julia scoffed lightly before saying "I'd better go, see you around Lestrade!" She started to walk out.

"It's _Greg_!" he called back.

"Whatever!" Julia put the scarf, netbook and her keys in the pouch and overtook the volunteers out of the door.

She hailed down a cab and promptly got inside.

* * *

><p>She checked her phone and found a text from an unknown number. She rang it and it answered less than two blips.<p>

"Ah, hello Dr Watson, how are you, this evening?"

It was the mysterious man again, except Julia smiled and said "What is your name? I guessed that you're a Holmes, you and Sherlock are quite similar."

The man audibly gasped.

Julia opened the laptop again and restarted the _MePhone_ search.

"How did you…come to your senses that I am related to Sherlock Holmes?" he asked warily.

"Because-" she said smugly. "Your height, mannerisms and mainly the way you talk and act gave you away. I did a degree in Psychology – I understand that you know that, you give the idea away - especially with your very educated and expensive clothing – that you are well high up. Not that I'm attacking you of course. I just think you should know that your brother is in danger and I will try and save him."

"May you not be so dramatic, you sound just like Sherlock."

"Excuse me madam?" called the cabbie. "Where did you say you wanted to go?"

"Oh sorry, _Roland-Kerr Further Education College_, please!" Julia said, away from the phone.

"Why is Sherlock doing in an empty college?" the man drawled. Julia batted the question away.

"I want you to call DI Lestrade of Scotland Yard and tell him to send a team down to the _Roland-Kerr Further Education College_. Tell him Sherlock's in danger. I also want you to know that – and be assured by you – that if I manage to kill the cabbie who will use Sherlock's weaknesses against him, I won't be…jailed."

There was a pause.

"You do sound genuinely concerned about my brother? Have you sustained your need for danger?"

Julia grinned. "I'm agreeable then?"

He sighed "Certainly, Dr Watson. Never has Sherlock been able to name some person a friend, although I believe he will with you."

"I hope I don't sound too threatening" she said, slightly worried. They were pulling into the college entrance and saw the cab abandoned.

"You are a military doctor Julia Watson, of course you sound demanding, but you are protecting my little brother for me. I wish you luck."

The phone went dead. Julia paid the cabbie and jumped out of the cab and started running into the building through the half ajar door, feeling her gun in her back pocket, secure and armed.

* * *

><p>Julia dashed through the empty and quietly daunting hallways, moaning every time she came to either a locked door or an empty room.<p>

_Where was he?_

_Why is it - _a small voice in her head had awoken. _That, yesterday morning, you were a moody and emotionless lump of misery hobbling around on a stupid stick? Why is it that NOW your running freely and searching desperately for a man you have now learnt to respect and trust? SHERLOCK HOLMES –you've been told he is a person not to be trusteed yet you still do. Why? If your mother could see you now Julia…what would she think? Or better still, what would Daddy say? What would Sammy say when he saw you have done something so utterly reckless?_

Julia ground her teeth together; it was her stupid doubt and the devil sitting on her shoulder that was saying these things.

It did make her think about it though. Today had been one of the best days ever in a long time for her.

Before, she'd longed for the battlefield again, to feel the adrenaline around her as it filled her up with survival instinct and danger.

Now she wandered around next to Sherlock and she felt whole again. Not in the sense of romance, no, Sherlock wasn't really like that and if she did feel like that then it wouldn't been until she fully understood him. He was an interesting character, to say the least. He intrigued her and he was a really brilliant man, who amazed her as she might confuse him.

After about five minutes frantic worrying she came to another large room with an even bigger window.

Stepping towards the window, all she saw was darkness, until she realised that across the gap, there was a long room of science tables, with the lights on and Sherlock and the cabbie were standing opposite each other, both holding pills. Sherlock was holding his to the light as if merely considering it.

Anger boiled up inside her, _was he really that reckless?_

Some part of her just said _YES_.

Reaching behind her, she grasped the handle of her favourite gun, caressing the smooth surface and loaded the magazine, smiling as the familiar sound hit her ears.

As if in slow motion, she saw Sherlock lower his hand and the pill to his mouth.

The cabbie was taunting him.

_You freaking moron_, she thought as she aimed the gun precisely at the cabbie, deciding to shoot not to kill at once, in case (as she presumed Sherlock might) the detective wanted to question him.

Bracing herself for the familiar sense of triumph and pity for the unknown serial killer, she aimed for the man's shoulder, and praying that Sherlock didn't move in the bullet's path.

The pill was almost at Sherlock's lips and without another second wasted, Julia pulled the trigger and the bullet shot through both windows and hit the man accurately in the shoulder, close enough to his heart to die, but far away enough to survive a few more minutes for some final words.

Julia removed the magazine and buried the gun back into the back of her jeans, fleeing the scene as Sherlock turned to face her across the way. She knew he hadn't spotted her. She was halfway down the corridor.

* * *

><p>Julia remained out of the way until she saw Sherlock sitting on the door to the back of the ambulance. She saw him bat away the pink shock blanket several times until Lestrade came over.<p>

She spotted them talking and then made eye-contact with him and she saw him spot mid-rant.

Sherlock paused and she winked at him, her hands folded behind her back and looking around innocently.

After a minute or two she heard Sherlock walking towards her and she looked up at him, still scarf-less.

"Hello Sherlock, darling" she smiled. He rolled his eyes at the nick-name.

"Donovan, as much as I despise her, has just finished telling me what happened. Two pills…dreadful business." She said lightly.

Sherlock just looked at her, amazed.

"What?" she asked, defensive.

He lowered his voice, so it was dark and husky "Good shot."

Julia tried not to look too proud. "Yes, good shot…through that window…"

"Well you'd know" he said, a hint of pride in his tone. She nodded.

"Oh!" she said and opened her bag. "I forgot."

Sherlock looked at her curiously but smirked when she withdrew his blue scarf from the unfamiliar bag. Julia then got on her tip-toes and fastened it gently around his long pale neck.

"Must you mother me?" he asked, bemused.

"Someone has to look out for you Sherlock" she said simply, her hands twitched slightly. Then she smiled warmly at him. "I don't mind filling in that role."

He looked at her strangely "Are you alright?"

She nodded "I'm fine."

"Well you have just killed a man" he said, reminding her of his earlier comment. He grimaced as he seemed to as well.

Julia sighed and looked at the ground, contemplating her words. She looked up again, chewing her lip absent-mildly. "I've…killed people before, not on my side when I haven't been able to save them-" she gulped loudly, but she forced the images away. "-but there were times when I had to kill…and I _only_ killed when I really _had_ to. One of my…_strong moral beliefs_…as it were."

Sherlock unlocked her hands from behind her and clasped them in his un-gloved ones. She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm…sorry about what I said earlier" he muttered, clearly so only she could hear him. "I didn't really think it would offend you much, mainly because I say things like that to myself before, when I was on my own. But I'm thankful…that I've now got somebody to throw ideas onto."

Her warm dazzling smile returned, looking much like she did when she'd realised she could walk properly. Once more, she leaned up and kissed his cheek, gentler than before and winked at him.

"Apology accepted. Back to your earlier comment, he wasn't really a nice man was he?"

Sherlock felt his cheeks heat up and tried to ignore it. He presumed that she wouldn't see it in the darkness.

"No" he murmured as he released her arms and offered her his, and she took it. "He was a bad cabbie as well, you should have seen the route he took to get us here!"

Julia giggled and covered it up when some police officer looked at her oddly.

"Stop it" she scolded him. "Can't giggle on a crime scene!"

"You're the guilty party" he said lightly.

Julia stopped and glared at him. "You were going to take that damm pill, weren't you? I could see it in your face!"

Sherlock noted how tense and…concerned she was about him. He knew he was reckless, but how else do you catch these people? "No I wasn't" he lied quickly. "I was bidding my time, I knew I could rely on you to get there."

She glowered but she was flattered that he trusted her with such things. "Don't play dumb with me Sherlock Holmes, that's what you do, you risk your life to prove your clever!"

Sherlock had the grace to look slight guilty. "Why would I do that?" he asked jokingly.

"Because you're an idiot" she said, grinning cheekily at him.

"_OI_, SHERLOCK!"

"Detective Inspector Lestrade" Julia said firmly, in her military and doctor-voice "To my knowledge, this man hasn't eaten for several days, so if you want him alive for the next case you throw at him, then I suggest you let him eat some food."

"Who are you to say about his diet?" Lestrade asked, still firmly yet curious.

She exchanged a look with Sherlock. "I'm his doctor."

"And only a right fool argues with his doctor" Sherlock supplied.

Lestrade sighed, rubbing his eyes "Ok, I'll pull you two in tomorrow. Off you trot!"

"Thank you Greg" Julia said and slipped her arm with Sherlock's again and they continued walking.

"We'll have to avoid the court case-" he carried on.

"Don't worry, it's all sorted." She said simply and Sherlock turned around to see his elder brother smiling disdainfully at him.

"Ah, Dr Watson" the man said smiling at her…which was quite scary.

Julia turned to Sherlock and grinned.

Sherlock went to introduce them. "_Mycroft_, what an un-pleasant surprise. Julie, this is…"

"- your older brother" she finished for him. "Good to put a name to a face" she said, shaking Mycroft's extended hand.

Sherlock's face was confused but then he rolled his eyes, his face relaxing "I should have seen that coming, shouldn't I?"

"Good to see you survived without bodily injury again, dear brother" Mycroft said in his normally drawl. He was twirling his umbrella again.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock demanded.

"As ever, I'm concerned about you" Mycroft stated.

"And personally, I think he's telling the truth" Julia muttered quietly.

"Always so aggressive" Mycroft said sadly. "Didn't it occur to you that me and you are on the same side?"

"Oddly enough, _NO_!" Sherlock said. Julia snorted in amusement.

"We have more in common than you realise Sherlock" Mycroft stated. "Dr Watson here, I met her earlier this evening and when she telephoned a short while ago, she had already made the link between us."

Sherlock looked at Julia and she blushed.

"What's the matter with your new flatmate worrying over you?" Mycroft asked. "She phoned me when she thought your life was in danger-" he looked sharply at Julia, who held her breath.

"-you shall not be punished" he said and she let out a sigh of relief.

Sherlock was utterly confused now. "What are you two on about?"

Julia spoke "I had a feeling what was happening, as you may have guessed, I am slightly more _observant_ and…better at making links than someone, like Lestrade. I realised that you – given that I've spent the better part of this evening in your company – that you are quite a reckless person. Not that I complain of course." She gave him another smile.

"Not using your crutch?" Mycroft asked, looking down at her feet.

"Yes well" she muttered. "I found an antidote to my problem."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow but she ignored him.

"Putting on weight again?" Sherlock sneered.

"Losing it_, in fact_" Mycroft replied smartly.

Julia cleared her throat. "I shall no doubt see you soon Mycroft, but I think I need a good night's sleep tonight and given this evening's events, I am guaranteed one. Goodnight!"

And with that, she started to walk away from the two brothers, only to have Sherlock catch up with her three seconds later.

"What's your antidote?" he whispered.

She rolled her eyes. "You want me to say it? Your clever enough, you tried to outwit a cabbie with two pills exactly the same! They were both poison!"

Sherlock gaped and then closed his mouth.

"You never cease to amaze me" he muttered, slipping his arm around hers again.

She looked at him thoughtfully and smiled.

"So you did get shot then?" he asked.

"Oh yeah" she said, holding his arm for some support, her lack of sleep catching up on her. "in the shoulder.

"The left one."

She smirked "_Lucky_ guess!"

"I never guess!"

"Yes, you _do_!"

None of the two partners heard what Mycroft said as they departed the scene, hearing their pleasant bickering.

"Sir, shall we go?" Anthea suggested.

"Interesting lady, that army doctor" Mycroft said thoughtfully.

Anthea rolled her eyes.

"She could be the making of my brother…or possibly make him worse. But none the less, we'll upgrade their surveillance, Grade 3, active."

"Sorry sir" Anthea said, confused. "Who's status?"

Mycroft smiled pleasantly. "Sherlock Holmes and Dr Julia Watson!"

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><p><strong>This is NOT the end; I have several episodes to go at least! This may be one of the only episodes that I will use a lot of the quotescontent from. Mainly because we've all wanted to know what a different first impression can have on a new pairing, especially when Sherlock's involved.**

**But, this is when; my main key ideas and possibly cases will come in. But I'm glad that quite a few people like the story already! I am extremely thankful of all the reviews and I hope you enjoy it further!**

**Rurple101 x : D**


	11. Chapter 11: Miss SleepyHead

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

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><p><em>CHAPTER 11: Miss Sleepy-Head<br>_

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><p>Following the events of the chaotic day, Sherlock and Julia went straight back to Baker Street and as Julia hadn't moved her things from her cramp hotel room over (and she wasn't going to until she'd had some sleep), she walked over to the sofa and sank gratefully onto it, sighing.<p>

"You look tired" Sherlock noted.

Julia snorted and closed her eyes, resting her head back carefully.

"Maybe I _am_ tired" she said weakly. "Are you going to bed?"

"No, sleeping is a waste of precious time" Sherlock said and sat opposite her in his armchair. She opened her eyes sleepily and narrowed them.

"Bed. _Now_!" she ordered.

"Why?" Sherlock protested.

"Don't argue with your doctor" she murmured, her eyes firmly trying to close. She stubbornly kept them open.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, and then went to the kitchen and grabbed the Chinese takeaway they'd gone to. Julia's lack of sleep and the amount of energy she'd used today was getting the better of her and her eyes slunk closed once more.

Sherlock saw this and then put her food away in the fridge (away from the body parts) and (surprisingly) ate a good amount of his dinner. After a few minutes of blissful quiet, Julia's quiet snores and slow breathing reached his ears.

She had slouched over, her leather jacket slung over the edge of the coffee table. She was bent over on her shoulder and Sherlock wondered if it was a comfortable position to sleep in. He knew that she hadn't had enough time or energy to grab her things so he did something he considered uncharacteristic of him.

"This is a once in a lifetime happening Julie" he muttered as he crouched over her and slowly picked her up.

She was completely still (apart from the steady rise and fall of her chest), probably because she was extremely tired. He held her securely as he stood up and walked towards his bedroom, kicked the door open, lowering Julia onto the large luxury mattress and pulled the thin white bed sheet over her.

She'd already removed her thick leather black boots and she wore mis-matched socks on her feet, one had a plain white one, and the second, yellow with blue dots. Her jeans were looser near her feet and creased where she'd wrapped them round her leg so her boots could be worn. Her hair was messier than earlier (no doubt after running like mad to find him in the college) and he pulled the hairband from her hair and put it on the bedside table.

She looked very peaceful, he decided and then left the room, closing the door gently behind him and deciding that he'd leave her to sleep the day's events off.

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><p>It had been just after midnight when Sherlock had put Julia to bed (well <em>his<em> bed) and he wondered what her company would be like in the mornings, when half past eleven rolled around. He'd spent the entire time sitting in the lounge, either thinking, feeling bored or getting up and making a cup of tea (and he wasn't very good at it).

He knew that, by means of science, that his body needed sleep to restart and process things quicker. But Sherlock had learnt to become immune to needing a good night's sleep, especially after one gruelling case he'd been on the previous year, which had required him (with no assistant to bounce ideas off) to remain awake 24/7.

He wasn't surprised to see the time at midday and there was still no sight of his new flatmate. He decided to check on her, just in case.

Sherlock neared his bedroom door and listened closely, pressing his ear against the door. He couldn't hear anything. He knew that Julia's snores were so quiet, that you had to be in the same room to hear her.

Cautiously he opened the door sharply and peered in.

Julia was lying, curled on one side, with the bed sheet rolled up and next to her, and she was leaning her head on it. Her clothes were even more creased from where she'd slept in them and her hair looked like a haystack. She was smiling softly in her sleep and Sherlock could tell she was still asleep…possibly dreaming.

He heard his mobile beep as he received a text from where he'd left it in the lounge. Closing the door reluctantly once more, he walked over to it and clicked the message open.

**Has she recovered yet, dear brother? – MH**

Sherlock gritted his teeth together and threw the mobile at the sofa. He went to the bathroom and when he came back the screen had lit up again.

**I would advise tidying up the flat – she won't want to wake in a scrapheap – MH**

**How's the diet? – SH **

Sherlock texted back angrily. _Why was Mycroft being so nosy?_

Was he right though?

Sherlock thought for a second. Would Julia be annoyed to see a messy flat? Would she have expected him to clean up while she slept?

_No_, he thought. _She would have wanted you to sleep while she did. She is a doctor, after all._

Sherlock looked around the living room, it was tidy, going by his standards, but the 'Drug's Bust' had uprooted several of his books, cupboards and hiding places.

The phone beeped again. **She's a woman, Sherlock. Woman tend to _appreciate_ a tidy home – MH**

Sherlock agreed; Mrs Hudson was a clear example of that. But Julia hadn't protested when she'd first seen the messier flat.

**And you're now an expert on woman, are you? – SH**

The text back was almost instantaneous.

**Up until Dr Watson arrived at your flat, I've spent a lot more company with woman in the last year than you did in your adolescence years – MH**

Sherlock blushed beetroot with anger and humiliation.

**Why are you nagging me to tidy my flat? – SH**

Sherlock was now losing the plot. As he waited (when did he await replies from Mycroft?) he dashed round the flat, putting random items away and clearing the floor area. As he did, he filled the kettle with water and set it to boil, placing two empty cups in front of it.

His phone beeped, Sherlock ignored it and didn't check it until the flat looked reasonably tidier (less than five minutes) than before.

**Just do it, Sherlock – MH**

Sherlock ignored the text and put the device back into his jacket pocket. Then, he went downstairs and knocked on Mrs Hudson's front door. She answered it with a beaming smile a few seconds later.

"_Sherlock_! How are you this morning?"

"I am fine Mrs Hudson" he said normally and gave her a small smile. "Where did I ask you to put my dry-cleaning that you collected for me last week?"

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><p>Julia groaned as she rolled over, her eyes opening, stiff from the amount of sleep she'd had. She closed them again and took a deep breath through her nose.<p>

Then she froze.

She smelt…something _familiar_.

Also, she was lying on something comfortable, not the sofa where she remembered falling asleep. Her mind still disorientated, she sat up and bleakly looked around her.

She was sat on a large and warm bed, with a white bed sheet cuddled up to her side, which she'd leaned on. Her mind came to the conclusion that she was in Sherlock's bedroom. The chemistry set near the window, the rack of classical music CDs, the large wardrobe, a door ajar to show several expensive looking long-sleeved tops.

The familiar scent…she realised was the smell she identified to be Sherlock's, the smell of aftershave or plain huskiness of it. She felt her cheeks glow and she patted them to cool them down. Her hair was messy, her hairband had been put on the bedside table next to her and she smiled when she thought of how considerate Sherlock was, if he'd carried her in here to rest.

She yawned loudly and rubbed her eyes, feeling a lot better after a long sleep. She stumbled out of the bed, onto the wooden floorboards and (after checking the mirror on the wall, and automatically, trying to flatten her messy hair) opened the door and walked into the kitchen.

Sherlock in question was sat in his armchair, a book held in front of him. She got the feeling that he wasn't really reading it and she was pleasantly surprised to see a still steaming cup of tea on the kitchen table.

"_Morning_" she said hoarsely, feeling a little embarrassed. She took the tea, held it like a life source in her hands and sat down on the sofa in front of the consultant detective.

He lowered the book and gave her a small look-over. She smiled instinctively and sipped the tea, again puzzled that he knew how she had her tea.

Sherlock was still looking at her.

"Thank you" she said, a little shyly as she lowered her mug and put it on the coffee table. "-for letting me sleep in your bed."

Sherlock's expression didn't change; it wasn't harsh but his features hardened out slightly. "It wasn't a problem" he said shortly and she got the feeling that he was embarrassed as well.

Deciding to ease the tension she looked around the room and noticed something was off. Knowing that Sherlock's eyes were on her, she turned in her seat and her eyes laid on the skull on the mantelpiece. If she had good memory, then she recalled it being left on the kitchen table. She looked at the kitchen, not realising at first that the experiments had been cleared away to the counter, leaving the table clear.

She found herself smiling widely. "Did you clean this up?"

Sherlock fidgeted in his seat and took a sip of tea. "_Maybe_."

Julia chuckled and shook her head in amusement. The she looked at her creased jumper and lifted the sleeve and saw the pattern reflected and imprinted on her pale skinny arm. She sighed, stretched her back and her muscles in her body all tensed as she did.

"You didn't have to tidy up" she said softly, looking back at him. "But I appreciate it."

Sherlock's insides twisted as he recalled what Mycroft had said about woman liking a tidy home. _Was everything else he said true?_

"Are you ok?" Julia's voice was concerned.

"Mm fine" he murmured, turning a page in the book. Julia scoffed, before reaching forward and plucked the book out of Sherlock's hands.

"We both know that you're not reading that book" she said knowingly. Then she drained her tea mug, picked up and put on her leather jacket and asked "Where have you put my boots?"

Sherlock was confused. "Where are you going?"

"I want to go grab my things" she said, looking around for her boots. "I find that hotel rather depressing and this place will feel more like home when I've got myself settled in."

Sherlock stood up, putting the book back on the bookshelf behind him, strode to the back of the door and put on his scarf and coat as well. Then as he pulled his gloves out of his pocket, he pointed to the desk where Julia spotted her black boots, placed under the seat which was tucked under the desk.

"Oh, thanks" she said, putting them on hastily as she normally did (habit from her army days) and then looked back at Sherlock who had his gloves on.

"Where are you going?" she asked, confused.

"I'm coming with you" he said simply.

Then he walked over to the desk himself and opened a small drawer and handed her a hair comb. "You might want to tidy your hair before you leave" he added in answer to her befuddled look. She turned around to the mirror and chuckled at her out-of-control-haystack-hair's reflection.

"How many times can I say thank you to you this morning?" she asked, taking the comb and quickly brushing it through her strands and (just as efficiently) slipped the hairband off her wrist and tied her hair up tidily.

She put the comb down and gave Sherlock a quick smile "_Better_?"

"Much" Sherlock's mouth was tensed in a teasing smile.

Julia chuckled again and then led the way out of the door, down the stairs and out the black front door.

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><p><strong>AUTHOR NOTES: <strong>

**I will warn you now, that as I've done the first episode (and that was pretty much laid out in structure for me) it will take me longer to update after now. **

**So please do not get angry because I slowed down, I wrote the majority (Chapters 1-10) all in one long word document and as I went along I published them slowly after editing. So now I'm'writing' as I go from now-on. Thought I'd give you guys a heads up! :P**

**Thank you for reviews! :D Rurple101**


	12. Chapter 12: Life With The Detective

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

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><p><em>CHAPTER 12: Life With The Detective<br>_

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><p><strong>The Personal Blog of Capt. Dr Julia H. Watson<strong>

**BLOG ENTRY: Life with the Detective**

**You would have thought that after you've solved a case someone then you'd be able to learn more about them. Somehow with Sherlock Holmes, that seems doubtful. **

**Maybe that's because there are so many sides you can view him from…which could be the side which dislikes him as you're upset/embarrassed/angered at his deduction of your clothes, facial expressions and posture. **

**To me, I find Sherlock is brilliant yet amazingly ignorant of what he says; he says he's a "_high functioning sociopath"_ but even then, I think he pretends not to be human…when that's impossible.**

**Either way, living with him is hectic, anyone who volunteered for that _outrageous excuse of a drug's bust_ (I'm still angry about that for anyone who is keeping up) will know that the flat is home to what Sherlock calls '_experiments'_. **

**I'm scared to put food in that fridge after I discovered (_forgetting_ that I live with a mad-scientist) first hand that there were HUMAN FEET in the vegetable drawer. Not very healthy to munch on.**

**To be frankly honest; life with Sherlock, means I'm never bored…and usually wary when he's bored. He woke me up in the middle of the night, to play his violin, but he did warn me about that before. What he didn't mention, was that his favourite way of passing time bored, is finding my gun and shooting the smiley face on the wall.**

**You can only guess my reaction (as a former army doctor) was. Let me just say that it didn't go down too well for either of us. And that's all I'm saying on the matter.**

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><p><strong><span>COMMENTS (22)<span>**

_Sammy Watson: Did you give him the whole 'you are a complete *&^%$&%' speech that you gave me?_

_Julia Watson: Hmm, compared to that speech, he got off easy._

_Mycroft Holmes: How quickly you learn to observe and document my brother, Dr Watson, did you deny payment and dish the dirt for _charity_?_

_Julia Watson: Why are _you_ reading my blog? And I'm not a snitch, this is for me, and I've broken into writing what happens, Mycroft._

_Mrs Hudson: What did he do to my wall?_

_Sherlock Holmes: Interesting evaluation of life Julie, I hope you're not going to publish this into a novel._

_Sammy Watson: This Sherlock sounds interesting, Big Sis, I wanna meet him!_

_Julia Watson: Sam, grow a pair, seriously, you're 24 now. _

_Mike Stafford: You should be a writer though Julia, I remember the reports and reviews you used to do at university. _

_Julia Watson: I forgot about those, I wonder if I still have my notes._

_Mike Stafford: Notes?_

_Julia Watson: Oh, I had un-published notes about other things I'd written, or I'd have written an original piece but realised that it was three times too long. Typical me; well how I used to be. How nostalgic. _

_Sherlock Holmes: Boring, where's the gun?_

_Sammy Watson: Seriously, this guy is a legend._

_Julia Watson: Stop spying on me you little douche, and go apologise to Clara._

_Sammy Watson: Make me._

_Julia Watson: Ooh, you really shouldn't have said that. Seriously Mycroft, you should see my sibling rivalry. _

_Sherlock Holmes: You're childish._

_Mycroft Holmes: So are you, dear brother._

_Sherlock Holmes: How's the diet?_

_Mycroft Holmes: It's fine. Now enough of this…appealing trivia, I have work to do._

_Sherlock Holmes: Don't start a war now Mycroft, you know what it does for traffic._


	13. Chapter 13: Nobody Touches My Gun

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

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><p><em>CHAPTER 13: Nobody Touches My Gun<br>_

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><p><strong>BANG! BANG! BANG!<strong>

Julia shot bolt upright in her bed, panting and the sweat was rolling down her face likes tears. Breathing quickly, she jumped out of bed and stumbled blindly down the stairs to the living room.

She stopped in the doorway and saw that Sherlock, draped across the sofa was holding his hand aloft, pointing at the wall which a vibrant yellow smiley face had been sprayed. In his hand was her gun, her personal and practical revolver.

"What. Do. You. THINK. You're. DOING!" she yelled, her voice getting louder with each syllable. Sherlock didn't bat an eyelid.

"Bored" he moaned softly.

She crossed her arms across her chest; the urge to punch him was so strong. He'd awaken her (from her own nightmare) to this small and mundane yet silly activity. Should she be glad or angry?

"What's the matter with you?" he asked, looking at her at first and scanning his eyes up and down her frame. She wasn't wearing her fluffy dressing gown, having left it upstairs. To bed, she wore white shorts and a thin lacy top with straps and if she were to turn her back on him, he'd have a clear view of her shoulder scar.

His eyes widened slightly; she was right, she was a woman who was tall for her age, her legs showed it.

Julia fought hard not to smile as he took longer than normal to scan her.

"Why have you got my gun?" she demanded, bringing him out of his…well, checking her out-mode.

"I found it" he said, turning away from her. Julia wondered if Sherlock was blushing and her insides warmed at the thought. Bless him.

"It's my gun" she said, stepping further into the room and towards him. "My, my one and only cherished object I own, as no doubt, you've deducted already."

Silence.

"From the way you can see where my constant grip on it has worn into the handle" she continued, walking closer to his turned back. "The way that the trigger mechanism isn't stiff like normal handheld guns, mainly because when you test them, they're relatively new. This is the gun I've had since I've started in the army and _nobody touches my gun_."

Her voice was final and a warning. Sherlock turned and his eyes were alive with malice.

"Oh really?" he taunted and waved the gun in front of her face.

Julia got a flash of a long distant memory and she cringed. "_Don't_."

"Why?"

He'd noticed her cringe and she opened her eyes and narrowed them.

"Because it's rude to take people's things that are not yours" she snarled unkindly and with that, she leapt at him, making grab for the gun and they both fell to the floor.

Sherlock struggled but Julia was a well-trained soldier and this was him learning not taunt her.

He dropped the gun but as Julia went to reach for it, he bent her arm out of the way and she yelped painfully and accidently kicked him in the stomach. Winded, his hand dived for the gun, a few feet away from the squirming couple. Julia was furious.

"Julie, calm down" Sherlock gasped, his posture weakening as he doubled over.

Julia swore as she stopped moving and looked up at Sherlock. He was lying almost on top of her, his face only a few inches from her own. Julia's heavy breathing got calmer and calmer until she met his eyes and swore again.

"Sorry" she said her voice only a wave of a breathy whisper. "You awoke….some…triggers I had."

Sherlock's brow furrowed, forgetting that he was lying on top of a pretty young woman, whom was also his flatmate. Normally his senses would have been zeroed in on her words and tone and her reason behind her actions. Now that had all fallen out of the window. Because he was gazing intently on the un-attractive deep red scar that had been revealed as her top had shifted.

He felt Julia stiffen and her breath stopped.

He tore his glance from the scar and then to her face, the face which spelled out every emotion he was sure she didn't want to show.

The everyday normal Julia was the quiet and relatively calm and tough former army doctor.

This Julia, was vulnerable, exposed and trembling with…fear? _Disgust_?

_Why does this woman make me want to look after her?_ – his frustrated mind asked.

Sherlock's breathing was gradual and itself was wary of what to say. Julia, as well as any other woman, would feel scared of what off-hand comment he could throw at her and upset her greatly.

Slowly, he raised one of his hands to the scar and Julia flinched violently.

"It's hideous Sherlock, you can't persuade me otherwise" she snapped, and he noticed her eyes were extra watery.

"Yes, I'm being stupid and emotional" she said as she guessed he noticed that her voice wobbled as well. "I'm a woman Sherlock, just another stupid woman who clearly needs to get a firm grip on her stupid natural redhead feisty temper. Hard to tell I'm a redhead, yet I'm been in a desert so you wouldn't have seen my pale skin. Yet my eyes, my green _green_ eyes give it all away!" she ranted. "I'm ugly and sadly I used to be other that kind of arrogance about my appearance. All it took was one complete tosser to make me feel like crap, so excuse me if I come across as a tragic and pitiful _slut_."

Sherlock's eyes widened in shock.

Julie, he would have never thought, would never describe herself in such a way.

"Who's degraded you?" he asked in a low murmur.

Julia gulped and closed her eyes firmly, trying not to cry.

"Just a bad experience, don't pity me. I don't want it. I'm not tragic, I'm being emotional. Just…I'll just go to bed when you're finished lying on me…"

"Be quiet" he said in a tone that left no room for argument. "You _aren't_ a slut Julie; nobody should label themselves that unless they are. I know at once that you aren't. You don't show any of the signs that a serial adulterer has or anything. Anybody who threatens you, then they aren't even worth the time."

Sherlock shifted and moved off her so she could sit up. When she did, he awkwardly patted her on the shoulder and smiled at her. "You're…_pretty_ Julie."

Julia smiled through her tears and did something she didn't know if she should. She hugged him.

Sherlock froze but relaxed after a few seconds pause, deciding that she needed this small moment of comfort, maybe she'd be embarrassed in the morning. He sighed, and wrapped an arm round her shoulder and patted her back a little awkwardly. Julia chuckled weakly and pulled away to smile at Sherlock.

"Thank you" she said gratefully and kissed his cheek, making Sherlock feel like his skin had lit alight there.

Julia scrambled onto her feet and Sherlock rose as well. He headed towards the window and withdrew his violin and bow. Julia felt a little exposed and embarrassed so she grabbed her gun off the floor and took out the bullets, knowing full well that Mrs Hudson was going to have a fit when she saw the wall.

Julia went upstairs slowly, locking her bedside drawer with her gun in it as well as her laptop.

Lying down in her bed and trying to get warm again, she heard a beautiful sound. It was Sherlock playing the violin downstairs. The music was excellent and sounded mournful and slow.

After a few seconds, Julia's eyes slid closed and she fell asleep.


	14. Chapter 14: Lestrade Has A Case

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

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><p><em>CHAPTER 14: Lestrade Has A Case<br>_

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><p>Julia woke in good spirits the next morning. Sherlock's violin playing had drifted her into a very relaxing sleep and was glad that in some ways, a violin-player was a good flatmate after all.<p>

She yawned and stretched feeling her back click several times and then wrapped her fluffy white M&S dressing gown tightly around her; aware that Sherlock knew which part of her body she hated the most.

When she'd gotton shot, it had come from behind her and straight through her shoulder, hence the two scars on her front and back. It was ugly and she felt a little odd to have to cover it up with foundation. She only did that when she really had to, which wasn't often.

Julia walked down the stairs from her bedroom and into the living room in which Sherlock sat an impatient look on his scowling face. Somehow she got the feeling that he hadn't slept at all.

"Hmm" she guessed as she stood in the doorway. "You're bored?"

He glared at her and she rolled her eyes.

"Of course I'm _bored_!" he yelled, standing up violently and making his netbook fall of his lap. Julia squinted at it; there was bullet hole through the screen.

_Now why hadn't she seen that before?_

"What happened?" she asked carefully, walking into the kitchen to fix up something.

"It was an experiment" he dismissed and kicked the remains of his broken computer across the room. Julia sighed heavily, shook her head and then poured out the boiled water into two mugs of coffee.

It had only been a week or so since she'd moved in and already Julia realised that she had a patience limit, but with Sherlock her temper usually lasted longer, which was peculiar.

Maybe Sherlock had a way of calming her down before she lost it?

Either way, the only time she'd lost it, had been the previous evening and she blushed at the memory.

Seeing as she was to a new environment the first day, she'd relaxed into a familiar routine and so far, hadn't raised her voice at Sherlock or anybody.

Her phone chimed. She withdrew the mobile from her pocket and read the message;

**Should I tell Sherlock I got a case right up his street? – Greg**

Julia snorted and left the message, not answering straight away.

Lestrade (or _Greg_, as he had insisted upon) came across as maybe a little too friendly but Julia didn't mind too much, if it got too much, then she would easily put him in his place.

"Two sugars?" she called to the sulking detective.

She got no response and she turned round to see if he was still there. He wasn't.

She sighed but put two sugars in Sherlock's coffee anyway. She turned around again Sherlock was pacing up and down the room…with Julia's revolver in his hand.

"What do you think you're doing?" she snapped, annoyed that he'd managed to trace and unlock her bedside drawer to get to it. She put her drink down and stormed over to him and snatched the gun from him.

Luckily it was empty and he didn't know where she'd locked her bullets.

"I'm _BORED_!" he whined, shouting desperately.

"Right, that's it" she said, whipping out her mobile and dialling Lestrade's number.

"_Hello_?"

"Yes" she said sharply.

Lestrade sounded confused and hopeful at once. "_Yes, what?"_

"We'll meet you at the Yard" she said, impatient. She was aware of Sherlock eyeing her dangerously.

"_Oh, ok, see you then"_ Lestrade answered and then she hung up.

She rounded on Sherlock, "Get dressed now, Lestrade has found you a case, and he thinks it's amusing. Next time, tell him to text you, _not_ me"

Sherlock's face lit up and he dashed out the room, his long dressing gown billowing after him.

She went upstairs, dressed out of her night clothes and dressed into another one of her fancy new dresses, stopping just below her knees, and it was a deep blue colour, made of different styles and lace. Her shoes were small heels, as boots didn't go. She donned her normal black leather jacket with the many pockets, packed her phone, plastic gloves, keys and purse and went back downstairs.

Sherlock was waiting at the front door and opened the door without looking at her as he heard her footsteps. He was dressed in his usual black suit, with a light blue shirt today, and his dark blue scarf and black cloak/coat.

"Scotland Yard, please" Julia ordered the taxi as Sherlock got in behind her and slammed the door closed.

She immediately went to her phone and started texting.

**I will be pissed if this is some joke, Sherlock's quite demanding when he's got no case. – JW**

Lestrade replied: **Yeah, well, this one will have him puzzled – Greg**

She rolled her eyes and sighed. **You know that never happens – JW**

She got no reply, locked her phone and put it away, looking at the consultant detective.

He was looking at her, _no_, scanning her.

"What _NOW_?" she huffed, crossing her legs and looking at her finger nails.

"Why did you get changed?"

"The same reason you did!" she replied, rolling her eyes. "I sleep in those clothes!"

His brow furrowed. Julia couldn't believe this man. For a genius, he was a bit slow in the common sense department, maybe which was her job.

"Why didn't you go out in your dressing gown?" she asked him as the taxi pulled up to Scotland Yard.

"Because I have my coat" Sherlock replied, confused.

Julia ignored him, tufted and paid the driver, got out, walking towards the doors as her heels clicked along the marble and concrete ground. There were some young WPCs standing outside the main entrance, smoking and they wolf-whistled at her as she walked past. She ignored them but heard Sherlock mutter something at them. Her insides warmed at his defence of her.

She walked straight to Lestrade's office (ignoring Donovan) and knocked twice. Sherlock just walked inside as he got to her.

_Typically impatient,_ she thought and followed him inside.

Lestrade was sitting behind his desk, tapping his fingers absently mildly on the desk. Julia folded her arms across her chest and coughed to gain his attention.

He looked up and took in her appearance, gaping.

"You have a case?" Sherlock demanded, snapping Lestrade's attention away from Julia's pretty dress –_wait pretty? _Sherlock thought, confused – and gauge Lestrade's response rapidly. The detective inspector seemed to flush as he was caught staring.

"Yes, there's been another murder, possibly linked to the serial killings going on in-" Lestrade started.

Sherlock interrupted. "Barts?"

Lestrade shook his head. "The body's disappeared; the killer only left a note." Lestrade opened his desk draw and brought out a big evidence bag with a (what looked like to be) bloody stained piece of cloth.

Sherlock put his plastic gloves on and took the bag quickly before withdrawing it slowly. Julia gagged at the smell; it smelt of rotting…bodies.

_That's a smell I'll never forget_, she thought, closely looking at the dirty and still freshly blood-stained cloth.

The two men didn't spare her a glance. Julia remained quiet as Sherlock inhaled the scent, but she looked away as he did so. He lifted it up to his eyes, held it under a lampshade and even asked Lestrade if it had been x-rayed.

"Not yet" the DI answered and then Sherlock turned to his assistant. "What did you say?"

Julia was confused. "I didn't say anything" she said honestly.

"Yes but you were thinking it" Sherlock said, a bit annoyed.

Julia snorted and warily said "I recognize the smell, it could be of the person whose blood this is-" she pointed her gloved finger at the cloth. "-or it could be…" she trailed off.

"Pass me that a second" she said and, confused, the detective silently handed it over.

Julia closed her eyes and ran her fingers over the cloth slowly, trying to distinguish each dent, which wasn't visible to the human eye. After a few seconds she opened her eyes and squinted at the cloth.

"Get your magnifying glass out" she said, but Sherlock had already opened it and was examine the cloth. She continued "It's in a type of braille; this is a message for somebody who can read braille. I recognize it immediately.."

"How could you recognise that so easily?" Lestrade asked, amazed.

"Because I…" she started again. "Because at a point in my life, I depended on braille to get around."

"You were _blind_?" Lestrade asked eagerly.

"Visually impaired" she corrected sharply, reminding her of how she used to snap at people. She watched Sherlock examine the cloth thoroughly.

He then turned to her "Then you can understand the message."

"Half of it" she corrected again. "I was a child when I had to learn it. If I refresh my memory, then I can probably get it. I can read-" she took the cloth once more and closed her eyes, concentrating as she ran her fingers over slowly, trying to remember how she felt all those years ago when she lived by braille.

_H…E…L…P…_

"Help?" she said, opening her eyes. "That's the first word, I can't remember the rest, and it has been a while, so I won't trust my opinion."

Sherlock nodded thoughtfully and rounded on Lestrade. "Do you have any blind people in the building?"

The elderly woman shuffled towards them and titled her head in acknowledgement. She reached out a hand to touch them.

Julia stepped forward and allowed the woman to touch and feel her shoulder.

"You are the woman" she said and Julia nodded. "Julia Watson."

"I am Esther Heath" the woman replied and then said, reaching past Julia. "You said there was a man, taller than you, my dear?"

Julia turned to Sherlock and looked at him, warning him not to be harsh.

"Yes Miss Heath" Sherlock said. "I'm Sherlock Holmes."

"May I touch your shoulder my dear?" Esther asked.

"He's taller than you are Miss Heath" Julia said.

Esther chuckled "Then pass me his hand."

Sherlock extended an arm and Esther was able to feel his gloved hand.

"Nice to meet you both" she said. "What did you want to do for you, my dears?"

Sherlock extended a hand into his pocket and withdrew the evidence bag with the blood stained cloth on it. Julia felt she ought to explain.

"Can you put these gloves on Miss Heath? We are asking if you could decipher something in braille left on a piece of old cloth found where somebody was abducted. It's…not exactly _clean_." Julia said carefully.

Esther shuddered but took the gloves from Julia and slid them on easily and motioned to have the cloth.

Sherlock gave her the bag and she opened it and felt the cloth, closing her eyes as Julia had done and mouthed the letters to herself quietly.

"P…L…E…H…space...E…H…T…space…S…N…A…L…P…space…E…V…A..H…space…E…N…O…G" Esther said aloud and Julia wrote it down in her notepad as she spoke.

"That's all I can feel my dears" Esther said calmly and gave Sherlock the bag back after she'd put the cloth away. "But whoever used it was very…new to braille learning."

"How can you tell?" Sherlock asked sharply and Esther winced at his tone.

"_Because_" Esther said softly. "The way he's tried to stamp it into the cloth. It's very difficult to stamp braille into cloth, mainly because that's an old format of it. Most places used metal beads and plates to show braille. More modern, you see."

"How do you think he stamped it in, and is it in the right order?" Julia asked, "It's written wrong. I though the first-" she cut off. "No, it's been too long for me to rely on that."

Esther smiled warmly at her.

"Thank you very much for your time Miss Heath" Sherlock said courteously.

"Call me Esther, dears" Esther said, still smiling.

"Bye Esther" Julia said and Esther waved them off as the detective and his assistant walked away, Julia tucking the notepad back into her pocket.

"What do you think?" Julia asked Sherlock as they walked out the front entrance of Scotland Yard.

"I think that Miss Heath is somehow related to his scheme" Sherlock said, and he waved at a taxi.

As the taxi drove towards them Julia asked "_Why_? She seemed quite friendly to me!"

Sherlock grimaced. "You trust too easily sometimes Julie" he muttered. "The city and streets are somehow still like the battlefield. Never forget that, especially when you walk with me."

Julia scoffed, "Your brother accused me of that when I was abducted by him when I first met him!"

"Said what?" Sherlock was curious.

"_People blunder and stumble around this city and all they see is the buildings, the cars and shops"_ Julia recited in a poor but accurate impression of Mycroft's slow drawl.

She could see Sherlock's smirk grow wider. "_When you walk with Sherlock Holmes, you see the battlefield, you've seen it before."_

Sherlock chuckled.

"_Idiot_" she scoffed again, and glanced out of the window. "Your brother is, at best, a pompous posh…_mush_" she decided on.

Sherlock barked out a laugh and she chuckled herself. "Insulting Mycroft" she said to herself. "Good times, good times."

"Where are we going?" she asked, having not heard Sherlock's direction to the cabbie.

"Barts" Sherlock replied. "I want to look at this cloth closer."


	15. Chapter 15: Molly and Discovery

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

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><p><em>CHAPTER 15: Molly and Discovery<br>_

* * *

><p>They got to St Bart's very quickly as Sherlock was impatient and had henceforth had thrown a £50 note at the cab driver which made him push harder on the pedal. After Julia had scolded him for encouraging half the cabbies in London to drive extra fast when he was in car, they got out and (in Sherlock's case) hurried into the building.<p>

Julia walked slowly at her normal pace, knowing which lab Sherlock would dash to first. Deciding that she'd better introduce herself to Molly, she headed towards the Mortuary, where she'd learnt that she was a pathologist.

She knocked on the door and after a few seconds, the door opened to reveal Molly Hooper, clean and thankfully _not_ covered in blood.

"Hi" Julia said.

"Urm, _Hi_" Molly said hesitantly.

"I thought I'd better introduce myself better" Julia explained, feeling slightly awkward. "I was the woman with the stick when you came into the lab with Sherlock's coffee."

"_Oh_!"

Recognition dawned on Molly and she beamed at Julia.

"Come in, I've tidied away the body I was working on, not exactly your thing is it?"

"_How_?" Julia asked, confused.

"I asked Sherlock when he came in the other day about the feet" Molly explained.

Julia rolled her eyes "He'll be bringing a bloody head into that fridge next! I'm his new flatmate, to clear that up."

Molly looked downcast "Are you and he..?"

"_No_" Julia replied firmly and covered her face in her hands. "How _many_ people are going to ask us that?"

Molly giggled and held a hand up to her mouth.

"It's not funny!" Julia tried to say firmly, but her smile wouldn't go away.

After Molly had finished giggling, she smiled at Julia and asked her about her background as a doctor.

"I was originally going to be a doctor" Molly said as she poured a cup of coffee for the pair of them. "But for some reason I found cutting up dead human bodies a lot more interesting. I'm a freak, aren't I?"

"No, you're not" Julia argued. "There are some things that can be seen or interpreted as taboo subjects but sometimes a certain event or thing might just be too interesting. It's human instinct to be intrigued with something. There are plenty of doctors in the world, and _someone_ has to do your job. I think I can understand why you'd find it interesting. I used to find History interesting until it got boring."

Molly smiled warmly at her.

"People normally agree that I'm a freak" she shrugged. "I get used to it."

She handed Julia her coffee and Julia inhaled the dark scent deeply, savouring the flavour.

"Where is Sherlock?" Molly asked, trying to be subtle. But Julia had already read her; she _obviously_ had a crush on the consultant detective.

"He's in a lab somewhere. We got a possible case, it's a bloody cloth with what feels to be braille and we had someone who read the letters for us." Julia said, sipping her drink. "He ran off and I couldn't be bothered to follow him, I'm in heels for crying out loud!"

"But there again-" she said smirking. "-so is he. I swear he has heels on those shoes that make him sound more '_up beat'_."

Molly burst into laughter and so did Julia.

"Then again, his brother is a lot worse" Julia continued. Molly covered up her desperate laughter to listen.

"I didn't know he had a brother" she said.

"More like arch-enemy" Julia corrected herself.

Molly nodded. "I've got two older sisters, would you believe that I'm only 23?"

Julia took another sip of her coffee. "You look younger than that!"

"Thank you" Molly smiled. "Only every time I see Sherlock, he constantly points out how much weight I put on."

"Oh _god_" Julia groaned. "If he did that to me every morning, I think I'd lose it. Why does it always hit a woman's self-esteem more than a men's do you think?"

"Because some women are paranoid!" came a voice from the corner, near the door.

Julia rolled her eyes and then stood up to walk around the lab table and crossed her arms. Molly flushed and wiped her mouth to get rid of any spare traces of coffee.

Julia sighed heavily. "What?"

Sherlock stepped forward, glaring at her. "You were meant to _follow_ me!"

"Well you ran off, I can't run in heels, and I thought it'd be polite to introduce myself to Molly." Julia fought back, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

"Oh _please_" Sherlock snorted. "You can walk perfectly fine in those shoes, the heel isn't even that big!"

"I've been in a war zone for the past six years Mr Holmes, in case you'd forgotten!" Julia retorted. "Bit hard to get used to civilian life and shoes with heels, when I'm used to my boots."

"Then why not wear your boots!" Sherlock yelled, exasperated.

"Because they would look odd with my dress!" Julia exclaimed. "_Men_! No concept of fashion _at all!"_

"You don't need to look good; you need to keep up with me, which is your job!" Sherlock bellowed, walking towards her so he could tower over her.

She wasn't intimidated by his height one bit. Instead she relished in the fact that he was being so ignorant of everybody else.

"I have my own free will Sherlock" she said quietly in her dangerous voice. "On other occasions, I will follow your beck and call, but today I was being polite to Molly!"

"_Who_ cares about her?" Sherlock argued, not one hint of worry to how these words could affect Molly.

Julia was in disbelief of this man. _How could he disregard everyone's feelings?_

She turned to Molly and said "I'm so sorry about this."

Molly smiled weakly. "I'm used to it."

Julia rounded back on Sherlock, and then gave him up as a bad job. She walked over to Molly, gave her a hug, and then walked out of the mortuary, ignoring the scowling detective who followed her.

* * *

><p>"Don't you want to know what I discovered?" Sherlock asked her, trying to keep up with her strict military march. Her heels clicked all the way down the corridor, up the stairs towards the lab they normally occupied.<p>

She marched in, ripped off her jacket, revealing her bare arms and hopped onto a stool on the opposite end of the table where he'd sat when she first met him.

She sat in a stony silence, her arms crossed and glared at the detective like a child being scolded.

Sherlock sighed loudly before walking back towards the microscope, on which the cloth now sat.

"The substance that we thought was blood was in fact a different liquid. There are traces of human blood on the cloth yet somehow it was mostly dyed red ink."

He glanced upwards to meet her narrowed gaze.

"Are you going to sit and sulk or are you going to come over here and inspect it for yourself?"

Julia sighed, relaxed and hoped off the stool, her heels clicking as she walked round the table and peered down at the cloth once more. This time, she noticed something different.

Bending closer she withdrew her pair of plastic gloves and slipped them on again. Holding the cloth closer to her, she peered and noticed something.

"There are some initials in the corner" she stated.

Sherlock nodded.

"You already noticed that didn't' you?" she asked, sighing.

"Of course, you'd think I'd miss that?" he asked, somehow annoyed.

Julia rolled her eyes and stood back from him. "Do your magic then."

Sherlock huffed and then picked up the cloth and started his analysis.

"The initials spell _'J.E.P'_ which might mean that this belongs to the victim or it had been taken off them, but victim more likely. The cloth itself is made from silk, and the dye/blood has stained it so we can't really tell exactly how much blood or dye it had on it. I can tell it seems to be only a dribble of blood and the dye was washed with it to mix them together and make it seem more.

"I've taken a blood sample and so far, none of the bodies in the morgue lately match it. So we're looking for the body to appear and then match it to that. The cloth, as made of silk either states that it's expensive or possibly an item rarely used. It's relatively clean – apart from the mixture – and hasn't been washed recently. So it could possibly be a gift or item that recognizes the person, hence the initials."

He turned to Julia and was pleased to see her slightly stunned face.

She composed herself and then added "I was going to say earlier, that I was pretty sure the first word was '_Help'_ didn't I?"

Sherlock nodded slowly.

"I've just remembered-" she walked over to where she'd ditched her jacket and carefully took out her notepad. She flicked through the pages quickly, walking slowly back to him as she did so.

She flicked the page and smiled widely. "-when you translate braille, it's written backwards. Esther deliberately translated it raw, backwards. When instead it should say-"

Julia leaned against the desk and grabbing a pencil, scribbled the words under the words she noted earlier.

"Instead of a group of words that are unrecognizable, when you read them backwards it reads…HELP, THE PLANS HAVE GONE!"

Still smiling, she held up her notepad and Sherlock took it and double checked her quick writing. He beamed at her, slightly blown away by this. "Well done Julie! How did you know this?"

Julia felt her cheeks go warm but ignored it. " One of those moments that you remember something important" she said. "When I had to learn it, I always thought, no matter how many times I was told, I translated it raw like Esther did."

She continued "From this, it sounds to me, that the person whose cloth this is, left this message in a hurry. Esther – either lying or telling the truth - said the learner was new, didn't she?"

Sherlcok nodded and his brow furrowed again. "So that means that whoever left this, was a clue, like Jennifer Wilson, leaving the clue behind. She also said that they did it in a hurry."

"You think they were threatened?" Julia asked.

"No" Sherlock said suddenly. "I think they were killed and whatever the 'plans' are, he was in charge of them."

Julia stood in silence for a moment. "So…the killer wanted the plans, and-"

"-the victim got killed when they refused, or the killer stole them and got away with them" Sherlock finished.

They looked at each other and Julia shook her head. "Blimey."

Sherlock gathered his coat and scarf, talking as he did so. "We'll need to keep the sample and…wait until a body appears."

"Maybe we should tell Lestrade" Julia said.

Sherlock snorted "No time."

Julia was confused. But none the less, she threw away her plastic blood-stained gloves and quickly pulled on her leather tight fitting jacket.

"Where're we going?" Julia asked, as she followed Sherlock out the door.

Sherlock didn't answer, instead he was texting quickly and walking along the corridor. Julia easily kept pace with him.

"We're-" Sherlock answered as they walked out of the main doors to the hospital. "-going to go visit my brother."

Julia blinked, surprised. "Now that's a statement, I wouldn't have thought you'd ever say."

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR NOTES: I am sorry that I took so long! Been ill the last few days and I had severe writer's block even though I'd written the first half of this story. People who love Mycroft and Sherlcok bickering, hopefully you'll love the next chapter. Haven't written it yet, but will hopefully not take as long as this update! <strong>

**Please review, Rurple101 xx**

**PS - _LINKS_ for clothes and ectera stuff are found at the bottom of my profile, like Julia's dress in these chapters. The links may/may not work but the hyperlink thing isn't working for me for some reason. :D**

**PPS - I hope I don't offend anyone who reads braille - I don't actaully know that much about it, but I'm guessing a majority, sorry if I offend anyone, I don't mean to xx  
><strong>


	16. Chapter 16: Annoying the Elder Brother

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

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><p><em>CHAPTER 16: Annoying the Elder Brother<em>

* * *

><p>In the taxi, they pulled up to a very posh looking building with fine architecture and the building was made of what looked like to be cream sandstone. The curves of the stone were smooth and the whole image gave an image of authority strangely. On a small plaque next to the wide doorway read '<em>Diogenes Club'.<em>

"My brother co-founded this place" Sherlock said, with some hidden distaste in his tone as they exited the cab and Julia ended up paying (_again_).

"Are there any rules?" Julia asked.

She'd heard of these kinds of clubs where they had periodic rules, mainly the golden rule of no speaking to anybody at all, even if you wanted to pass the sugar.

Sherlock shrugged as he causally strode in and pushed the door open for Julia behind him. She stepped in, following him, down the hallway, to a door labelled '_Stranger's Room'_.

"Go in there and ask for Mycroft" Sherlock whispered in a low tone.

Julia gave him a confused look. "But I'm a _woman_ Sherlock and this is a _gentlemen's_ club."

Sherlock rolled his eyes before walking – after grabbing her wrist – forwards, opened the door and walked in quickly.

The room had a high ceiling; white plaster, expertly decorated and the wooden beams and sideboards were polished so they shone brightly. Sherlock carried on down the long room, past the long benches which contained a few older men, whom looked slightly older than Mycroft, but you could tell by their clothes they held the same responsibility yet respected more for it.

At the end of the room was three doors, spaced out separately and each had their own plaque on them with a name. Sherlock headed straight for the door that read '_Mycroft Holmes, Co-Founder'._

* * *

><p>Mycroft jumped in his seat at the desk while he'd been going over some top secret government plans and his head jerked up to see his younger brother dragging his assistant with him. The assistant in question wrenched her hand free from Sherlock's and scowled at him.<p>

"What have you been up to _now_ Sherlock?" Mycroft drawled looking back at his plans spread across his desk.

Then deciding better on it because his brother was in the room, he covered them with a white sheet and stepped up from his seat and walked towards his guests.

"How's the diet coming along?" Sherlock asked in his usual jibing tone.

Mycroft scoffed quietly and smiled pleasantly at Julia.

"We've got a case" Julia started and ignored Sherlock's annoyance radiating off him. "-and we have found a cloth, instead of a body, and braille written into it."

Mycroft was intrigued and sat down in one of his stuffy leather armchairs, watching the pair of them. Sherlock, bored, walked over to the window and gazed out of it, hands folded behind his back.

"The cloth, after a while, had a message and the message, was _this_."

Julia withdrew her notepad and flicked to the page and handed it to Mycroft. He took it and looked down at it, slightly confused yet entertained at the same time.

"Does this have anything to do with any top secret government plans that you have been working on?" Julia asked warily.

Mycroft's eyes snapped to her face and narrowed.

"_Some_ things…_Dr_ Watson, haven't changed I dare say."

Now she scoffed –hoping that Mycroft wouldn't betray her past in front of Sherlock - and snatched the notepad from his grip. "I take it that _you_ Mr Holmes haven't either. Sherlock was right about the diet."

"Did you two come here to irritate and disturb me?" Mycroft half spluttered.

"_No_" Julia said honestly and patiently. "Sherlock had theorised that the plans in questions could be as mundane as a receipt to a _Happy Meal_. But, if they are top secret and to be captured at once by two people whom you trust to return them back to you, _without_ selling it out-" Julia said simply. "-then Sherlock is the only answer."

Mycroft was silent for a moment and then rose from his seat and walked over to his desk and behind it was a filing cabinet. He opened the top drawer with a key from his waistcoat and took out a brown file, thick and heavy. He walked back to Julia and opened it a random page and started to flick through it.

"The victim, were they in trouble at the time of murder, Sherlock?"

Sherlock drifted back over to where they stood and smirked at his elder brother. "You know who it was then?"

Mycroft sighed heavily and sank back into his seat, motioning for Sherlock and Julia to do so as well.

"A young man, new to MoD, discovered, most unfortunately, a file or rather, a set of plans that was best left alone. It concerns a terrorist group, small in numbers yet we fear that they will become strong until the year is out."

Mycroft sighed again before continuing, ignoring his brother's huffs of impatience.

"His name was Jeffery Peters, 23, bright and clever, married to his childhood sweetheart Cynthia Reynolds and has two young daughters, Melody and Charlotte, both aged 18 months. He had no real reason to steal the plans, but we are certain it was him, as only a few members had access to the place where they were stored. The ID had been stolen from Keith Bridges, whom had been away on holiday for a month in Ibiza."

"How does this fit in?" Julia asked, feeling they were becoming side-tracked. Sherlock snorted as if he could read her thoughts.

"He, as I said was young and bright and evidently, a happy man to be married with children. Only we discovered that two weeks prior to the break-in, _this_-"

Mycroft handed Sherlock a photograph and Julia peered close to see.

It was of a young man, blonde, happy-faced and average figure. But the photograph was from a CCTV camera and it was in a…

"A _gay_ bar?" Julia asked confused. "I thought you said he was happily married with two babies!"

"That is what his wife told us after we discovered this yet before we informed her of it" Mycroft answered swiftly.

Julia looked back at the picture again; she sensed Sherlock's brain whirling up as he digested the image and then processed it quickly in his head. She could tell it was a gay bar, due to slogans and adverts sloshed around the inside. Also, the man in question was dancing alone and rather suggestively with another man.

"What did his wife say when you told her about this?" Sherlock asked, not looking up from the image in his hands.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. "She was upset, to say the very least."

Julia scowled at him before asking "Can I ask what the plans _concern_?"

Hesitating for a moment Mycroft pondered, and rubbed his chin distractedly.

"They are plans about a terrorist group, which had been notified to a very high security risk. They pose a threat to…the nation and its defences. The group isn't religious, _per say_, but they are keen to show dedication to some higher being, and believe that it's their purpose to rid the world of bad people. You will recognize that date well, don't you Dr Watson?"

Julia hesitated herself before flicking over the file and her hand froze as she read the date.

She cleared her throat "Yes, the suicide bombers of Huddersfield*****. I remember it."

Sherlock looked towards her and then scanned his memory for dates. _Huddersfield_ …

"Remind me where that is" he asked Julia.

She half-jumped and quickly closed the file, composing herself.

"West Yorkshire" she muttered and then glowered at Mycroft. "So they were behind it all? The news report had said that the group was just a small and childish threat and that it was being considered as an accident!"

Mycroft went to open his mouth but she interrupted.

"Oh but of course-" she smiled annoyingly, "-that was a _lie_."

Mycroft scowled back at her.

"It was needed for _Watson_" he growled and instantly Julia got a flashback of when she was a teenager and snorted out of laughter.

"Right, _whatever_" she said dismissively, getting up from her seat. "This group, what are they called?"

"_Obedientia Divinam Est_" Mycroft answered with perfect pronunciation. "or _Divinam_, as they're known as from what little the public have discovered. Clearly Peters thought he would be revealing the truth and the best of Britain."

Julia looked at Sherlock and raised an eyebrow. "You got anything?"

Sherlock also rose from his seat and folded the file into his coat sneakily when Mycroft didn't see. "The Latin translates to '_Obedience is Divine'_. Clearly they have some sort of scriptures that they believed to be from this high ender lord who reigns over all, and Peters was _clearly_ an active member and follower of it. He wasn't gay and this was just a meeting place to exchange ideas and theories."

Julia did a double-take, as did Mycroft who'd scoffed lightly.

"How can you tell he was-?" she asked. Sherlock (as usual) interrupted.

"The markings on the back of his left palm-" Sherlock said, making Julia withdraw the photograph out again and Sherlock pointed at it. "-quite an odd yet distinctive tattoo and clearly making him a strong member of something if he's been made to tattoo the design. The area he chose for it is clear and will likely be on-show 24/7, so he was compiled to mark this in a specific place, and the only idea is that he belonged to a strong group as tattooing and marking your own skin marks commitment of sorts as they remain imbedded in the skin for years."

"_Wow_" Julia breathed and turned towards Sherlock.

"_Also_-" Sherlock continued, taking the photograph out of her hands and pointing at the other man in the photograph. "- the other man in this photo (despite being in a homosexual bar) is clearly straight. The way he's dressed, normally you can tell with one glance if the man is heterosexual or not. His clothes are modern and bland in colours, guessing he's some sort of businessmen, that illusion, helped by the black shirt and tie he's wearing.

"Could be boyfriend who dressed extremely well? No, look at his left palm, both of their palms bear the same mark as you can only just see a peek of his left hand. Conclusion, this bar was a meeting place and that these two men both wanted to steal plans from the government to expose the evidence of their group being a threat."

Julia would be lying if she'd said she wasn't amazed every time Sherlock did his reasoning lark, when he explained it turned the cogs in her head and reminded her once again (more reminders than she wished) of her secret days _before_ the army.

Beaming at Sherlock, she looked back at Mycroft who was looking bored, sitting back down at his desk, his arms folded and looking every bit the sulking child.

"The lunch trolley is late" Sherlock said quietly in her ear. Julia smiled widely, trying not laugh out loud.

"I had a late breakfast" Mycroft replied sulkily, having heard them.

"What _tripe_!" Sherlock scoffed and for a split second, from the way he spoke, his English accent had been as curt and posh as Mycroft's.

"You, in your home, have five servants who prepare your breakfast every morning, which you take the moment you get downstairs and _before_ you read the daily morning papers, which for the British Government, is something you _should_ do instead of satisfying your stomach!"

Mycroft was only hinting that he was blushing, his ears had gone red and his eyes had narrowed into slits as he looked at Sherlock.

"You don't want the boring savoury snacks that the team here and at home serve you" Sherlock carried on snidely. "You want the cool mouth-watering cream cakes, filled with sweet jam and the soft pastries."

Sherlock was starting to make Julia hungry by the way he was describing the yummy treats.

And at that exact moment, there was a knock at the office door and Sherlock strode over to it, and opened it, startling the maid outside. Sherlock opened the door wider for her and she carefully wheeled the trolley full of sugary treats and snacks and drinks inside.

Mycroft stood up and walked up to Sherlock so he was face to face with him.

"Just solve the case Sherlock" his brother snapped. "I know how you do enjoy to actively pursue a criminal. Now _get out_.""

"Don't mind if I do" Sherlock said and plucked a cream éclair form the trolley and took a bite before striding out of the office, ignoring Mycroft's protests. While he was distracted, Julia pinched a cream cake and hid it behind her back as she sidled past the outraged Mycroft.

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><p>She caught up with Sherlock who was smirking in the hallway as he finished the cream éclair he'd taken.<p>

Julia giggled at the sight of cream on his nose and she quickly flicked it off and then took a bite of her cream cake, walking out of the building, heels clicking as she went. Sherlock's face was one of mild surprise as she wiped the cream off his nose, but happy that he'd irritated his brother, he didn't continue that thought.

Besides, chocolate cream éclairs were very _very_ delicious.

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><p><strong><span>AUTHOR NOTES<span> **

*** The place wasn't bombed or had serial bombers - that part was made up to tie into Julia's story, sorry if I'd scared any of you in the process! ***

**ALSO : Thanks very much to _Theodora Helena Miller_ whom helped me with the Latin Translation! :D  
><strong>


	17. Chapter 17: Slip of the Tounge

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

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><p><em>CHAPTER 17: Slip of the Tounge<em>

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><p>Julia and Sherlock headed straight back to Baker Street comfortably, none of them commenting on the cream-incident and Julia was oblivious to it.<p>

Sherlock was silently puzzled over how he didn't mind that she'd touched him, but then again, it hadn't been the first time they'd has psychical contact. There had been the time when she'd managed to stumble across the kitchen in the days of her memories and he'd offered her help up.

Also there were the times when he'd subconsciously link arms with her, and none of them had an issue with that.

Julia glanced at Sherlock and nudged him on the arm "You ok?"

Sherlock blinked and smoothly replied as if he hadn't be contemplating their regular yet reassuring touches.

"I need you to get me some data" he said without missing a beat.

Julia sighs and relaxes against the plastic leather of the taxi seat and looks out the window as she answers him. "On _what_?"

"Well first, I'm going to go find out more about this terrorist group. I want you to tell Lestrade to arrest Peters and interview his wife."

"Won't you want to do that?" she asked, confused.

Sherlock's answer was clear "_Obviously_."

She rolled her eyes. "So after I've done that, what else do you need me for?"

Sherlock looked at Julia and reflected on what a misunderstood version of that line could be seen as an answer. "Find out what you can on the Bridges-"

"-you mean the guy on holiday in _Ibiza_?" she cut in.

Sherlock clenched his teeth together, he hated being interrupted. "Yes."

"Pass me the file then."

With reluctance, he withdrew the heavy file from his coat pocket and handed it to her. She took it and held it against her chest, as if she were clutching a baby to her.

_Protective, Defensive,_ Sherlock mused, turning to look out the window.

"If Bridges is unavailable to return soon…?"

"Then YOU will _tease_ him back" Sherlock replied before she could finish.

"Tease him back?" Julia looked slightly insulted. She flicked open the file and Sherlock watched as her quick nimble fingers found the correct page easily.

_Organised, Thorough and professional, she's done that many times before, _where_ I wonder…?_

Julia scanned the page on Keith Bridges and looked at 'Personal Interests and Hobbies'. Her eyes widened and her rage flared.

"You've got to be _kidding_ me!" she snapped at him, outraged.

"You're quick" Sherlock's mouth twitched slightly. "Bridges has a fondness for a woman's touch, or rather going to strip clubs. You're a woman so therefore it seems logical-"

"_LOGICAL_?" Julia bellowed, making the cabbie flinch from the noise. "I'm a woman yes, but I'm not going to be pushed and prodded around, _especially_ if you want to dress as a stripper!"

"I don't _want_ you to" Sherlock insisted. "I _need_ you to do this for me. You may be able to capture him, guide him away and then give him a sedative and bring him to Baker Street."

Julia crossed her arms across her chest in indignant disgust and huffed.

Sherlock sighed loudly before turning around in his seat and made Julia look at him. "_Julie_."

Julia pointedly ignored him and marched out of the cab when it arrived at Baker Street, making Sherlock pay the fare and she stormed upstairs to her bedroom and ripped open her closet.

She stomped back downstairs and leant against the doorframe, glaring at him.

"What time would be ideal for him to arrive here?" she snapped.

Sherlock was stood up, after turning on her laptop; she hadn't used a password and made a mental note to make up a really hard one until Sherlock bough himself a new netbook.

"Well, it's-" he looked at his expensive watch on his sleeve and then looked back at her. "-half past twelve now, I think the best place to start is call Lestrade, go to the station and then go to the club. He's been reported to be seen in 'The Fair Gentlemen' in Soho."

Julia scowled and without further comment, took out her mobile and dialled Lestrade's number, holding the phone up to her ear.

"DI Lestrade" came the answer.

"You knew it was me calling" Julia said, smiling, and then she went into busy mode. "We've got a lead, don't ask how or where, all top secret, as most things are these days, and I need you to do a profile scan through your system and arrest Jeffery Peters and his wife Cynthia, previously Reynolds. Their two infant children must be watched, so don't get Donovan to, she'd much rather doggy Anderson than look after kids, especially a criminal's. _Laters_!"

She snapped the phone shut and looked at Sherlock smugly.

He looked bemused and deducting at the same time. The smug smile drooped slightly.

Sherlock's mind was in over-drive, conflicted between researching his college rather than the case – _wait_, what was he _thinking_? The case was a lot more _important_ than his interest – _interest_? – in his flatmate/assistant.

_Business tone and professional. Rattling off facts, made to dazzle anybody and she'd clearly smug given that grin. The way her brow furrowed shows she's had experience of heavy pressure, but not from war, how can that be? She's speaking of profile scanning – psychology term…?_

"I'm going shopping" Julia said, after a moment's silence.

"Good – we need milk" Sherlock answered, turning to his – scratch that, her – laptop which loaded quicker than his old one.

"Not food shopping" she replied and Sherlock turned to her. "Given that it's been a while since I've had to dress up, I need to go refresh my wardrobe and I can't really wear my military uniform, can I?" she smirked.

It's been a while – that quote rang through Sherlock's head, and felt his eyes widen.

"You were a-"

"_No_!" Julia laughed, her smile covering her face, grinning madly. "I thought you'd think that! I have my simple clothes, mainly lady-like dresses like I'm wearing at the moment. Not exactly clothes made to reveal as much skin as possible. The _last_ time I dressed up was for my bach-" she stopped and turned around hurriedly.

"Back in an hour!" she called, half dashing out of the flat, leaving a confused Sherlock behind her, trying to figure out what she'd been about to say.

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><p><strong>And the mystery of Julia's character continues, you guys might think I'm overdoing her plot when you find it out, but in my defence, she's gone through a lot. <strong>

**Sorry it's been nearly _two_ weeks since I last updated, I did warn you though! **

**Haha, Please read and review, any suggestions will be appreciated s they're _very important to me_ if the readers notice something I've done wrong.**

**Rurple101 x : )**


	18. Chapter 18: An Old Familiar Face

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

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><p><em>CHAPTER 18:An Old Familiar Face<em>

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><p>Julia hurried out of the building and quickly got into a cab, half flinging the money at the cabbie as she headed for a nearby cheap costume store.<p>

She groaned and leant forward in her seat and put her head in her hands; _why did she nearly spill? Why had she gone on to rattle about her bachelorette party?_

Well, it had been the last time she'd dressed up, she smirked as she let the memory wash over her, she had been quite young, her mother half-forcing her into marrying one of her closest friends. He'd been called Edward Edgecombe, a lovely name to say while pissed, she snorted in laughter.

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><p><em>"Julia Heather Watson! You better be dressed up like a slut!" her best friend Abigail had yelled through her bedroom door.<em>

_"Abi!" called her other friend, Charlotte scolded her. Charlotte was a lot less blunt and more sensible than Julia and Abigail. _

_She opened her bedroom door and Abigail gaped at her, impressed and amazed._

_Julia had the theme as 'Naughty Schoolgirls' and she was dressed in black stocking with suspenders, a short black skirt, bright pink heels, matching nail varnish and her school shirt was tighter and open to reveal her average cleavage, helped by the push-up bra she wore underneath. On her wrist was a set of handcuffs, and she wore bright pink lip-gloss and green eye shadow. Her hair was messed up, in her original natural bright ginger-red colour, with a plastic tiara on top._

_"Is this good enough?" she'd asked, still smirking._

_"Dear lord Julia!" Charlotte spluttered. "You look the worse out all of us!"_

_"Well it is MY party and MY wedding in a few days isn't it?" she'd replied causally._

_"You look hot!" Abi piped up, grabbing Julia's wrist. "Let's hit the clubs!"_

* * *

><p>Julia smiled fondly at the memory and sighed.<p>

It felt like ages ago, she was a normal (ish) cool and attractive teenager, and it was only roughly ten years ago. She'd been eighteen when she'd married Edward, but that marriage had ended by the time she'd joined the army when she was twenty, mainly because of her other more demanding secretive career.

When was the last time she'd spoken to Abi and Charlotte?

They hadn't joined the army with her, and she'd been with them throughout secondary school. She had a feeling that by now, they'd both be out of University and probably settled down.

She pulled out her phone and scrolled throughout the contacts, before remembering that this had been Sammy's previous phone, not her original one.

_Mental Note:_ _find where I left my old SIM-card. Most likely at 'Home' AKA Mum and Dad's house._

She cringed at the idea of meeting her mother but jumped when the cabbie alerted that they'd arrived at the store. She hoped out and then walked in, smiling as she walked past the 'Naughty Schoolgirls' outfits.

* * *

><p>An hour and a half later, she stumbled out of the third store she'd visited (she'd got carried away and continued shopping, buying more normal clothes and updating her wardrobe as she mainly dressed as a woman twice her age).<p>

Panting, she heaved up the bags and tried to wave a cab over to her. One approached her but a man with a walking-stick got to it before she could and she gave up once she saw the man walk in front of her. She moaned, rubbing her feet in her shoes.

"Excuse me, I can share the cab if you want" somebody said, and she raised her eyes to the man who stood in front of her.

She recognized him at once and screamed as she flung herself at him.

"JOHN!"

The older man smirked and caught her, spinning her around slightly.

She pulled back "It's so good to see you again!"

John rolled his eyes and eyed her bags. "Want a hand?"

She lowered her gaze and spotted his cane, which had loosened in his grasp.

"You got a psychosomatic limp as well?" she asked, knowingly.

He looked taken-aback but nodded slowly.

"I had one as well, that's why I'm back home. You get in and I'll bring the bags."

She got in with the bags and quickly said "221B Baker Street please."

She looked back at John who looked surprised.

"Aww John, you look so cute when you're flustered" she teased him. "What's the matter?

"221**B** Baker Street?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm sharing a flat, as I can't really afford living in London with an army loan. Surly you get a bigger amount than me?"

He shook his head and she scowled. "_Fucking_ useless they are! You, of all people deserve a higher amount!"

"I'm just going to look at an apartment" he replied. "It's 221**C** Baker Street."

She looked gobsmacked. "It'll be great to have you so close!" she smiled. "But I have to warn you about my flatmate, He's-"

"WAIT" John butted in. "_He_?"

"It's not like that!" Julia snapped. "The amount of people who say that! Sherlock's not like that at all, married to his work and everything!"

"Sherlock?" John asked. "Interesting name."

"Sherlock Holmes" she replied. "He'll deduct everything about you and he can be blunt, has no sense of other people's feelings and acts like a big child. I'm surprised I can cope with him!"

"You sound like you like him" he said slyly.

Julia narrowed her eyes. "Sometimes I hate you John."

"You love me really" he smirked again, this time Julia broke the scowl and laughed out loud.

"This makes up for my bad day today" she said, stretching. "I am so thrilled to see you again John! How have the others been since I left?"

"They've been as expected" he said, a little hardness in his voice. Julia knew the feeling and squeezed John's hand, resting on his knee.

"I'm a doctor as well John" she comforted him. "We both know what it's like, especially since we know each other so well. You can't save everyone, as much as we wish we could."

John's eyes were watery and he smiled gratefully at her as the taxi turned into Baker Street.

"You'll have our landlady" Julia said, changing the subject. "Mrs Hudson is really lovely."

* * *

><p>John helped as best as he could, holding two bags while holding the door open for Julia as she stumbled inside and she put them down as she took John's hand.<p>

"Come on, I'll introduce you to Mrs Hudson."

John walked easily with her as she walked over to the door to 221A and knocked.

Mrs Hudson came to door and beamed once she spotted John.

"Hello dears, you must be Doctor Hamish!"

John's cheeks went pink, as they normally did when he was introduced as a doctor.

"John please, Mrs Hudson."

Mrs Hudson turned to Julia. "Sherlock left about half an hour ago to look for you. He mentioned that you were taking too long."

"Well that's normal for him, isn't it?" she rolled her eyes.

"Let me show you the flat John" Mrs Hudson called as he disappeared back through her door, probably to fetch the keys. "The renovators have only just finished, so it still smells a bit of fresh paint, finally able to rid the flat of the black damp on the walls."

She unlocked the doors and swung it open to reveal some steps going down. They followed her down the steps to a small main living area with a nice view of the small garden to 221 Baker Street. Beside a fireplace, in the same position to the one above in Julia's flat, was a small doorway leading to a reasonable sized kitchen area. Then on the opposite sides of the room were doors to what Julia guessed to be a bedroom and bathroom.

"It's brilliant" John said, as he took a look round.

Mrs Hudson beamed at him. "I'm glad you like it dear. You can move in anytime if you wish."

This was backed up by the fact that there were several piece of furniture, including sofa, armchair, table and chairs, bookcases and a desk in the corner. In the bedroom, there was a normal sized double bed with a small dresser for clothes and built in wardrobe.

"I'll take it at once" he declared to Mrs Hudson. She smiled again "It's good to have you living here Doctor Hamish."

"Julia" she said before John could correct her. "-Sherlock said that he needed to see you at once, I think he went to the Yard."

"He'd have gone to interview the suspects" she summarised and smiled at her landlady. "Thank you for telling me. I'll go now."

She walked to the doorway before turning around and beckoning to John. "You can come as well if you want John. I want to introduce you to Sherlock."

John followed her out of the door quite happily. But she halted when they got into the hallway. She grabbed her bags and dashed up the stairs "I need to get changed first!"

* * *

><p>Sherlock stood in Lestrade's office, drumming his fingers together under his chin as he watched the DI walk back into his office and shut the door behind him.<p>

"_Well_?" Sherlock demanded, impatient as always.

Lestrade sighed heavily and sank into his chair. "Jeffery Peters hasn't been seen for days, his wife was very concerned and she had a family friend with her when she was speaking, his name was Lewis Lionel who all three of them went to college together."

"Cynthia Peters obviously had her husband killed off then" Sherlock stated, testing if it was a good enough hypothesis. "She had her husband killed so she could continue her affair or love for Lionel."

"It needs to be supported by _evidence_ Sherlock" Lestrade groaned. "How many times do I have to remind you? The press and the justice system will need _proof_ to sentence him; you can't just point a finger at him with a suitable reason _without_ backup!"

"May I have five minutes observing her?" Sherlock asked, not bothering to look away from the file on the table in front of him.

Lestrade rolled his eyes but looked up when the door to his office opened and Julia came in, wearing a long brown coat, and Sherlock could see designed tights and bright red heels. He smirked slightly to himself, but then rose his eyebrow when an older man followed behind her, struggling with a stick.

"Hi guys" she said cheerfully.

Lestrade stood up and looked down his nose at John, and stiffened. "Who's this?"

Julia waved a hand at Lestrade "Detective Inspector Lestrade" then she turned to Sherlock and smiled encouragingly at Sherlock, making him feel slightly warm inside. "- and this is my flatmate Sherlock Holmes."

"Sherlock-" she addressed him as he stood up. "-this is one of my old friends, Dr John Hamish."

"Another army doctor?" Sherlock asked, holding out a hand to John. John took it and smiled, a little bemused.

"Yes-" Julia continued. "John is our new neighbour, taking the downstairs flat below us."

"Lovely" Sherlock said, and he seemed to be sarcastic. Julia snorted and patted John's shoulder fondly.

"He's a lot more experience than I am" Julia added to Sherlock. "But he isn't going to be made to do anything, am I clear?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes Julie, all clear."

John exchanged a look with Julia and she glowered back.

"Sherlock reckons that the wife's having an affair now with the guy who is with her in the interviewing room, down the hall" Lestrade piped up.

"Sounds logical" she reasoned. "If she was the type, or just desperately in love with them, despite having two young children, she might just take the risk."

Sherlock smirked triumphantly.

Lestrade sighed and heaved himself to his feet. He looked very tired and exhausted. He went to walk past Julia and then turned round and abruptly asked "What are you wearing under that coat?"

"None of your business" Julia snapped back. Lestrade looked alarmed but let it slid as he mooched out of his office.

"What _are_ you wearing Julia?" John asked curiously.

Julia fought not to blush. "I am doing what I was demanded to wear and do" she said, glowering at Sherlock, her expression hostile. "I officially look like a slut, mission accomplished."

John did a double-take and Sherlock actually blinked twice in shock. He was surprised that she'd actually gone and listened to him.

"I sent Bridges a picture of what's underneath" Julia said, withdrawing her mobile and flicking the screen on. "He sent me a message half an hour ago, arranging to meet me in a few hours."

"I'm still confused" John asked. Then he added in a hopeful voice "Can we see?"

Julia's blush blasted through her defences and she shook her head. "No! I look a disgrace, it's embarrassing enough without my mentor ogling me- and don't deny it John, I've seen you before, as much a gentlemen you are."

John blushed now. Julia smiled and her phone bleeped. She looked at it.

"_Impatient, need to satisfy my needs_" she read off the screen.

Sherlock felt his insides flare; men, needs? She was a woman, not an object!

Julia closed her eyes and sighed heavily. "I really don't want to do this" she moaned.

John took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "You've fought the Taliban Julia, you can do this."

"Ugh" she moaned. "I couldn't care less what others think, I'll just feel sick of myself and won't be able to look in the mirror for a few days. Then I'll be fine" she put on a brave smile.

"You were Afghanistan as well then?" Sherlock asked John. He smiled and nodded.

"Mentor of Julie?" he asked again.

John nodded once more, noting how only Sherlock was allowed to call Julia, Julie.

"Julia told me you had this skill" John said. "It sound amazing, I'd ask you to deduct me, but you already know a lot already."

"I wouldn't put it past him" Julia murmured, smiling a dazzling smile at Sherlock, who felt his insides warm again.

"The way you stand is military" Sherlock started. "That and that Julie has already said you were a mentor of sorts to her in the war, and so you must be a well experience army medic, possibly more adapt to war and violence than she was when she first met me. I got rid of her limp as well, mainly because I attract danger around me, hence solving cases which the criminal classes dislike, to be subtle."

John was nodding along to him. "_Brilliant_" he simply stated.

Sherlock went to start but Julia's mobile suddenly started ringing loudly. Julia herself, jumped at the shrill noise and froze in horror once she saw the number.

"It's Bridges" she whispered. "Why is he calling a supposed stripper before meeting?"

"To check you aren't a fake" Sherlock replied. "Hang up and text him back, meet him in half an hour, the bar's not too far away."

Julia nodded and went to walk out the room but stopped. Sherlock noticed that her hands were trembling slightly, making him feel a little guilty (an emotion he wasn't used to and despised it at once) about forcing her into it.

He was therefore stunned when she turned around and walked across the room and hugged him firmly for a few seconds.

Confused, he was halfway raising his arms when she pulled away. He felt somewhat disheartened when she gave John a hug as well, shorter than his (he noted happily…?) and then walked out the office, leaving the two men to pray she was successful.

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><p><strong>AUTHOR NOTES: sorry if its confusing to have John in here, but I had the thought and decided ; why not? Please review! xx<strong>


	19. Chapter 19: Her SexySide

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

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><p><em>CHAPTER 19: Her Sexy-Side<br>_

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><p><strong>WARNING:<br>This chapter contains some sexual themes stronger than other chapters and from onwards, this story will be rated as '_T_. **

**I am on the same thought-process with Julia in this chapter and apologise if you don't like how she behaves, but she IS ACTING.**

* * *

><p>Julia walked into the strip club, subconsciously tugging the coat tighter around her slender form and recognized the face of Keith Bridges, leaning against a side-bar near the main entrance to the racy club, smoking a long cigarette.<p>

She darted quickly into the female bathroom, and hurriedly fixed up her heavy make-up and pulled back the hood to reveal her longer-looking and creamy brown hair, curled in roller for an hour, making her face look round and desirable.

She walked out of the bathroom and (acting how she though was) seductively walked towards Bridges, swaying her hips, and biting her lip to swallow her nerves at the moment. She'd deal with her disgust at herself later.

He had his back to her and she poked him playfully on the shoulder and watched with a sexy amused face as he turned around.

"Ah, Miss Donna, the _dominatrix_?" he asked, exhaling the long draft of smoke into her face. She held back her gag.

Instead she smiled sweetly and winked at him slowly. "Why don't we do this in a more…_private_ setting?" she purred. "I think it would be a _waste_ to display (she felt so sick with herself) my body for everyone to see but my client."

He fell for her and put out his cigarette and nodded, smirking arrogantly and like a pervert at her. "Of course, my lady. Follow me."

He took her hand and bestowed a kiss upon it and almost dragged her into the back of the heaving club, swaying half-naked woman bodies writhing in front of men in rows of seats, wiggling their bottoms in their hand's reach.

* * *

><p>Bridges swung the door open to reveal a stairway leading to another floor. She followed him, wondering how she was going to drag him back to Baker Street. She had her syringe of date-rape drug that she'd use to either spike his drink or inject him with. It was a good enough sedative that would make him appear woozy or drunk to passers-by.<p>

To help her, the room he pulled her into had some music already playing in.

The sound of Rihanna's voice seemed to be popular (without surprise) for clubs or a 'sexy' atmosphere. At the moment, as he crushed her towards him in a commanding and harsh manner, _Talk That Talk_ was playing.

But she wasn't acting as a dominatrix for nothing.

He grabbed her hips and she giggled (acting) and sang along to the lyrics as she swayed her hips and pushed him back, grabbing his short locks and ripped his brown jacket off him.

"Aren't you here to please me?" Bridges growled.

"#_Give to me baby, whatcha say now give it to me baby_?#" she sang as she slowly unbuttoned her coat.

She steadily pushed him onto the end of the bed and from her handbag; she withdrew a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold.

"I'll release you when I want you on me honey" she purred again as she convinced him and slipped the lock in and turned.

Another song, her coat still loosely open and he sat expectantly at her.

She turned around and slipped the coat off her shoulders and it pooled at her feet. She heard his desperate groan and closed her eyes tightly before ignoring her nerves, chewing on her courage instead.

Her body wasn't bad, it was nothing hideous, mainly as it was fitted into an extra tight body-clinging skin-suit, see-through yet covered her modesty somewhat. Her shoulder with the scar was covered so she knew she didn't have that bothering her. Only her 'stripping' was a short mini-skirt and black stockings, red heels, and a tight shirt revealing an extra-large cleavage that she'd remove. Hopefully she wouldn't have to remove the body-suit until he was under the influence. Her breasts were normally quite big and she had a thin waist, long elegant legs and her face looked sexy because of her curls and her bloody red lipstick lips (and because she kept biting her lips, seductively or out of nervousness, she couldn't tell).

"Oh, myyy _God_, help me" Bridges moaned, looking down at his enlarged crotch area.

"I'm flattered" she said in her newly adapted posh sultry tone. "Normally clients don't appreciate my body."

"Your body is from heaven" he moaned.

Julia couldn't hold back her snort. "Very amusing, sir, but you're speaking too much."

"What are you going to do now? I want to see your _tits_" he begged.

"You seem to have a little problem" she giggled.

Walking over to him, she produced a riding crop (she'd have to return it to Sherlock later) and traced it down his chest towards his affected area.

"So you like what you see?" she asked.

He eyed her greedily. "I've barely seen anything!"

"Ah no" she teased, walking forwards to trace her bloody red fake nails down his cheek. "My name is Mistress and you shall reply to Mistress when I ask you a question, Mister Bridges, is that quite clear?"

Her voice seemed very hard to resist.

"Yes Mistress" he said, forcing himself to look her in the eye.

"Good" she smiled sexily. "Now watch."

She put the riding crop down and conveniently, a song came onto the radio which helped immensely with her strip-tease.

"#_The mood is set, so you already know what's next#"_ she sang softly, her perfectly low and tender voice ringing in the tone to cover Rihanna's husky pure voice. She ran her fingers up her legs, hands reaching underneath her skirt to unhook her suspenders, but then deciding to remove her skirt first.

_"#TV on blast, Turn it down, Turn it down#"_ she continued, sliding the side zip down and arching her bum as she slid the skirt down her toned legs. She saw his eyes widen considerably.

_"#Don't want it to clash, with my body screaming out#"_ she exhaled, her skirt on the ground and her thong present as she erotically traced her bottom, dancing her fingers around her skin to unclasp the showing suspenders.

_"#I know you hearin' it,#"_ she slid the first stocking down, swinging her body to the tune slowly.

_"#You got me moanin' now.#"_ she moaned out loud to emphasize this point and walked around to him and sat down on his leg, wrapping her arms round him and digging into his leg, arching her back.

He closed his eyes and she took this chance to take out her syringe and in one quick fluid motion, stabbed him in the right shoulder.

His eyes flew open in his gasp and she trailed a hand innocently down his face.

"Enjoying the view, sir?" she purred.

"Yars, Missstrazz" he slurred before his eyes slid closed and his head went limp.

Julia breathed a sigh of relief and fled into the adjoin bathroom, before she vomited successfully into the toilet, bruising her knees in the process.

_You filthy slut,_ she growled at herself. _How can you even have the balls to act like that_?

_Think about this later! _Her mental brain told her. _Get the bloody hell out of there!_

She cleaned out her mouth, flushed the loo, redid her make-up before dashing into the other room and picked up her fallen clothes, dressing at speed and packing her things up.

She then grabbed Bridges and tugged him out of the room and downstairs. Luckily, the club was too busy and exciting for anybody else to notice that she was abducting another man. She had her coat over her arm, making it seem that she was being taken home for pleasure. Once she managed to stubble him into the entrance, she flew her coat on and called for a taxi.

Her hair was ruffled and it was apparent that she looked somewhat wanton, so naturally as soon as she got into a cab, dragging a semi-conscious man with her, the cabbie piped up enthusiastically.

"Do me next love, eh?"

"Baker Street please" she snapped, ignoring his question and remained on Bridges sub-consciousness. The drug would last over four hours, and he'd have to sleep it off, so Sherlock better be patient.

* * *

><p>She got out at the corner of Baker Street, and preteneded that she was helping a half drunk mate home from the pub.<p>

The door to 221b took FOREVER to appear at how slow they had to walk and without thinking, she barged in and called "_SHERLOCK_!"

At once, she heard footsteps on the stairs and from around the corner, he spotted her and froze at her appearance.

After she'd left the police station, she had then done her hair and makeup. Plus her coat had become undone and she rolled her eyes as he looked at her.

Sherlock was caught off guard at her appearance. Normally if a woman was parading around half naked, it wouldn't bother him. But it was the fact that it was Julia and she had openly protested that she hadn't wanted to do it, yet had trusted him enough to go through with the task. He admired her courage for that.

But then when he spotted that the ajar coat displayed her skin-suit and mini-skirt and tight shirt, it hadn't made him aroused, but just stunned. The curly hair suited her face, making it more round and pleasant. He found it hard to define anybody as 'sexy' or 'hot' but they weren't words he'd chose for Julia in that outfit. "Stunning, radiant and beautiful' were ones he would consider using however.

"Sherlock?"

He blinked and looked down at her feet. On the floor level with her bright red heels, was Keith Bridges, the man she had managed to capture…and seduce?

"Don't look at me like that!" she said harshly, making his head look at hers. "I'm not a slut; I am a person doing a job. Just because I did it very well doesn't mean I DID something. If you think I slept with this scum, then you should know that I was sick right after I knocked him out!"

Sherlock just started at her, slightly confused.

She rolled her eyes, huffed and then walked up the stairs towards him. He felt his heartbeat climb as she came closer.

_What was wrong with him? Was he ill?_

"I'm-" Julia said as she joined him at the hallway step. "-am going to get changed and washed. The drug will wear off in a couple of hours so you'll have to wait a bit."

"Boring" he said in his normal tone, trying to ignore his heart pounding. He could smell her perfume, it was rich and strong.

"Don't shoot the wall again please" she sighed. "I'll make you a cup of tea when I come back downstairs."

She pushed past him carefully, her shoulder brushing his chest slightly and her heels clicking as she walked on the wooden steps.

He turned back to the unconscious man and decided that now was a better time than any to hoist him upstairs until he recovered from the drug.

* * *

><p><strong><span>AUTHOR NOTES:<span>_ Please do not_ keep thinking Julia as how she acted, because I'm worried that I will think that as well._ Hopefully_**** I displayed that she went back to normal(ish) when she returned home. **

**Sherlock doesn't feel sexual towards her, but a little confused/stunned by her change of appearance and surprised that she went through the task so well that she managed to do as he'd asked her to do.**

**Just thought I'd tell you that I _was/am_ worried about the reception of this chapter but when things progress with SH/JW then it will be a lot more fun : D **

**Thank you for reading me panic, it tends to be because I'm not good at these 'sex' chapters. **

**Haha. Rurple101 xx**


	20. Chapter 20: Interrogations & Confessions

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

* * *

><p><em>CHAPTER 20: <strong>: <strong>Interrogations and Confessions  
><em>

* * *

><p>Julia hurriedly got changed into her original outfit that she'd worn that morning, but couldn't be bothered to wash her hair, so after she scrubbed her face free of the heavy make-up (she didn't really like wearing it), she rinsed her face twice and then went back downstairs.<p>

Sherlock had dragged Bridges into the front living area and was seated himself in his armchair next to the fire, his fingers pressed to his chin in his '_I'm thinking so don't disturb me'_ pose.

She took the hint and walked past him into the kitchen and picked up the kettle. Walking to the sink, she filled the kettle up, put it back on its hob, flicked the switch and grabbed the old teacups they'd used earlier that morning.

As she reached out to Sherlock's cup, he spoke "Tea please."

"Strangely, that's what I was doing" she said impatiently and snatched the teacup and stalked back into the kitchen.

The cups were rinsed, dried and then she put the teabags in their cups, as well as sugar. Oddly enough in her tea she had sugar whereas she didn't have it in her coffee. Sherlock didn't changed and had too sugars in both, and he had it rather strong with barely any milk. Again, she was the opposite and had her tea quite milky.

Once the water was boiled, she poured the hot liquid into the cups quickly yet carefully and plopped the sugars into the cups and hummed to herself gently as she twirled round backwards to open the fridge and whip out the milk. After she'd dolloped the milk in, she swung round again, closed the fridge and put the cups in each hand and walked towards Sherlock, who had his palm facing upwards.

Knowing that he'd burn himself if she put the hot teacup onto his open sensitive skin, she put her cup down on the coffee table and with her other hand, shifted his hand so he could take the handle with his long elegant fingers. He seemed surprised at the physical contact, but as Julia was used to examining people while in combat, she didn't register it.

She smiled briefly at him before turning and sitting down in her own armchair, a bigger one that Sherlock's, opposite him and tucked her feet under her as she sat and sipped at the scolding tea.

"How did you do it?" Sherlock's voice was interested.

"The tea?" she said. "You saw me."

"_No_" his voice seemed annoyed at her humour. "I meant Bridges. It's easier said than done to do that."

Julia raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"You want a bet? If I wasn't so-" she snorted. "- _appealing_ to _his_ kind-" she nodded her head to the unconscious man on the ground. "- then it would have been harder yes. You _underestimated_ the fact that I'm quite an attractive _young_ woman and that its quick easy to try and seduce someone-" she gaged. "- when he's intoxicated and _aroused_."

Her short rant managed to silence the detective for a moment and she took a long sip of her tea, smiling to herself at the familiar taste.

"You're right…yes" he answered after a pause.

Julia's eyes widened in surprise.

"Well done" he smiled a short smirk before taking a drink from his tea. He enjoyed the fact that her shocked expression remained for him to satisfy from.

"Have I passed a test, of sorts?" she asked warily.

He nodded. "You're _officially_ capable of being my assistant" he confirmed.

She tilted her head to the side and said, almost sarcastically. "Should I be flattered? _Hmmmm_…"

"Don't make that sound" he groaned. "It's annoying."

She snorted and took another drink. "So are you Sherlock."

She must have said it harsher than she'd thought she'd said it, because for a split second Sherlock's expression weakened, and if she hadn't been watching him, she wouldn't have seen the small amount of hurt and disappointment in his eyes.

"But I'm still _fascinated_ by you Sherlock" she added to mend her mistake. "You're not the _bad_ kind of annoying. I can tune it out, so you're not completely impossible."

His eyes looked somewhat hopeful. "_Really_?"

She smiled warmly, to reassure him. "I'm not going anywhere. I enjoy your company, it's new, exciting and I love it. It's good to have made a new friend."

"I'm your friend?" he asked, and she felt somewhat hurt herself when he seemed lost by the concept.

"I consider you one of my closest friends" she said. "If you don't to me, then I completely understand of course-"

Sherlock grunted in a way that he seemed to come across as '_Yes, you're my friend, whatever, just change the subject please'._

She rolled her eyes, but changed the subject none the less. "So…what are you going to do to him?"

"What did he do to you?" Sherlock asked, quicker than if he was answering her question as he almost cut her off.

"_Pardon_?"

"What did he do to you?" he repeated.

"Made me feel like an object-" she sighed. "-like the _last_ one."

"_Last one_?"

"Boyfriend" she amended. "But then again, that wasn't _really_ a relationship. It was more of a one-night-stand without the fun in it, at least for me."

Sherlock still looked puzzled.

Julia bit her lip, praying she didn't have to explain this to him. "Do you know what I meant?"

He slowly, as if reluctantly, shook his head silently.

"_Errm_" she took another sip of her tea as she thought how to explain what she meant.

"We were going to have sex, but he ended up…_using_ _me_ rather than looking after me. Not that it's _meant_ to happen, but females normally wish to have some…_affection_ while in the midst of it all. Normally it's meant to be fun, and – yep I sound a bit pathetic here – I not sure, _respect_?"

Sherlock looked blankly at her for a second before nodding. "He didn't respect you then?"

"Men normally, or rather the idiots I've dated – which _isn't_ valid for _all_ mankind – prefer to be in charge in bed. Woman in return ask not to have their needs and desires pushed aside as they aren't a sex slave. They should be respected and treated equally. I ended up walking out, which was a good thing too."

There was a pause.

"_Man_, I need to learn to stop going off-topic so much." She scolded herself out loud.

"No" Sherlock said, finishing his cup of tea. "It's fine, good to gather data."

"So I'm your results then _am I_?" she said, irritated. "I'm the person who you will use experiences of to test to clients and murders?"

"Is that a problem?"

Julia groaned loudly. "No Sherlock, perfectly fine, just don't compare me to _everyone_ because then you WILL annoy me."

Sherlock rolled his eyes which made Julia sigh loudly and get up.

"Another tea?" she asked, not looking at him.

He nodded and held out his empty cup. She reached out to take it, but Sherlock with his other hand, caught her wrist. Julia looked down sharply into his face.

"I didn't mean to annoy you" he said in a tiny voice. His expression looked neutral, but she could detect some vulnerability in his body language.

"It's ok Sherlock, now let go before I sit back down again and no more tea for us while we wait for this _dickhead_ to wake up!"

* * *

><p>It took five more cups of tea and four hours later, after a long afternoon and then evening of waiting for Bridges to awaken.<p>

Sherlock, as she'd predicted was very impatient but he was copying relatively well than she'd expected. He spent the most amount of time, sitting in his chair, hands clasped under his chin, thinking silently.

Whatever he was thinking, he was thinking so deeply that he didn't hear Julia speaking to him.

Julia had managed to grab some of her old things from her parent's house (when she'd snuck in quietly without detecting them – it helped when they were out, she was glad to have learnt some good secrecy skills) and decided to go upstairs and sort them out.

She wandered upstairs and sat cross legged on her bed while she pulled the first box towards her.

Opening the box she spotted her old diaries and she felt conflicted if she should keep them in the flat; what if Sherlock got hold of them?

She didn't want her teenage years to be dragged into perspective as she did a few things she now regrets while she was at such a young age. As she went through the boxes, she found reminders of all the reckless things she did and how many times she'd dyed her hair.

He hair had been all colours; her natural bright red ginger colour, honey blonde, pitch black (which had been a bugger to get rid of), brown (as it was now) and even green at one point for a charity. She'd even shaved it all off for that same charity for a day and raised over £200.

She smirked when she her old school photographs and now understood what people meant when they'd told her that she dressed in designer wear and seemed to be '_that popular but kind girl'_ whilst at secondary school and college. She hadn't worn make-up that much but sometimes it had helped when she'd glammed herself up.

She found her old prom pictures, where she'd worn a tight one shoulder, short silver dress which showed her old tattoo of love hears on her shoulder. The name '_Julian'_ had surrounded that image.

She put her hand on her wounded shoulder and smiled sadly, even though she'd removed the thing years ago before the war; she still remembered why it had been scribbled on her skin in the first place.

Opening one of her many diaries she found the entry for the day of her 16th birthday.

_Dear Book  
><em>(she'd refused to name it diary as it wasn't original so she'd settle for book)

_I'm 16 today, and that in any way is a scary thought. I'm now legally allowed to shag anyone (obviously within reason!) and order drinks over the bar. Wow, I'm so powerful, I can feel it already._

_ANYWAY next year I can start driving – again, more daunting things to dread doing. Then the year after that, I'm 18 and legally an adult. Yikes!_

_But that's two years away; today Mutti informed me that she's throwing me a party._

_Really Mutti, you can throw it out the window for all I care! The amount of times I tell her that I'm BUSY and really don't give TWO SHITS about her clearly hasn't sunk it yet._

_Will it ever? I could be hear in ten years' time (hello 26 year old me! **: D**) and it might have never changed!_

Julia smirked, it hadn't at all.

_Daddy's already got the message, that's because he is awesome and understands/remembers being a freakin teenager! I'm in the midst of things growing and bleeding (which I find gross bleeeccc!) – I mean when I catch my knees on the pavement, LOL! – and it's so confusing. Even with my teacher stating that my hormones are racing around don't flipping help!_

_I know I'm going to be a doctor, that thing is certain. I'm bright enough to be, I got my' predicted' GCSE results today (or rather I hacked into my teacher's computer – she forgot to log it off – and saw that my Maths grade is A* which is brilliant!_

_Yaay! My lowest grade is French, which is an E, which is rude as my teacher is my flipping form tutor! And here I was thinking Mrs Davies was alright!_

_I'm going to go see Abi and Charlotte instead. Daddy knows where I'll be as that's where I go to ignore Mutti. Truth be told, Mutti honestly doesn't understand me! BECAUSE SHE ISN'T MY REAL MUM! Plus, she's a bitch!_

_Love Jewel_

_I haven't been called 'Jewel' for years,_ Julia thought as she turned the pages. Her mother (or rather step-mum) hadn't grasped that she'd escaped but hadn't done the party anyway!

Her hand frozen on a photograph and when she'd mentioned her father. He'd died a few years ago and that had been the hardest of all for her to mourn. Her father had been some sort of support that she could always rely on being there for her. But she had been 22 when he'd died, and that's when she'd had her only home-leave from the army.

She fingered through the boxes again, coming across a lot of material she'd have to hide from Sherlock. He'd probably judge her as everybody else had when they'd found out she'd been a teenage s-

"_JULIE!_ HE'S AWAKE!"

Sherlock's clear loud voice interrupted her thoughts and scurried to put away her things, showing them deep into her wardrobe and locking it with a key across the handles.

* * *

><p>She hurried back downstairs, slightly out of breath and found that Bridges' eyes were open and his eyes gleaming as he looked at her.<p>

"How disappointing" he croaked, the drug still making him drowsy. "Such a slut like you shouldn't have to cover up."

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Who says I _have_ to cover up?"

He laughed and it chilled her somewhat. "I saw your shoulder."

Julia tried not to give it away, he was fishing.

"Well done, I have _a_ shoulder" she said sarcastically. "Now shut up, you won't want to continue speaking if I were you."

"_Why_?" Bridges snarled, no longer looking over her like he desired her.

"_Because_-" Sherlock appeared from round the corner from the kitchen, causally holding his riding crop. "- if you insult my friend again, it'll be one of the last things you'll do."

Julia felt quite touched at his defence of her and smiled warmly at the back of Sherlock's head.

"I _wondered_ where this went" he added still causally to her, indicating the riding crop in his grasp.

She snorted. "Apologies _darling_."

He chuckled in response.

Bridges looked between them, jealously coursing through his veins as the woman gave the taller man a charming smile that the taller man didn't deserve.

_Why should he get all the smiles? Woman should like me!_

This woman in question was very desirable, her long toned legs, firm breasts and her frame was powerful and slender at the same time. She held herself in a strong manner so that might suggest that she was good in bed-

"Stop trying to imagine me naked!" she snapped impatiently. "Sherlock, will you get on with it?"

Bridges glared at her; trying to ignore the idea that she had planted nicely in his brain.

Suddenly 'Sherlock' was in front of him, his polished black shoes in Bridges' face and he was crouching down and as Bridges looked up, he spotted the familiar look of fuming rage on his features. He looked calm mostly but Bridges saw the glint of seething fury, probably because of what the woman had said she'd thought he'd been doing.

"Where are the plans you'd planned to destroy?" the man asked calmly, Bridges being able to hear the threat in his tone.

"_What_ plans?" Bridges spat on his shoes.

Sherlock looked down slowly and narrowed his eyes at him, then slowly moved his gaze to the riding crop. He held it so it was pointed right in front of his nose.

"I'll ask again. You're part of a terrorist group that has some religious views that don't suit well in this nation, as you believe that any form of monarchy and government is corrupt. Our country, the United Kingdom, has both. You must have an issue with this as you name was found to be in link with this group and the sudden disappearance of Jeffery Peters."

"Who's _he_?" Bridges spat.

Sherlock sighed and then brought the riding crop down and smacked the back of Bridges' neck. The sound was harsh and horrific and Julia shuddered.

"You're part of a terrorist group named _Obedientia Divinam Est_, which is in Latin, but translates roughly to Obedience is Divine. Why did you join this group? It's non-profitable and only exists firmly on belief in numbers alone." Sherlock carried on.

"I don-"

_SMACK!_

"I can't te-"

_SMACK!_

"Stop it-!"

_SMACK, SMACK, SMACK!_

Sherlock's anger and frustration was consuming him; mainly because this scum had reduced Julia into feeling disgusted and the way he spoke to her; one of his only true best friends, the only one of the female gender, should be respected and shouldn't be put down like that.

But then he felt Julia's hand on the back of his neck, not grabbing, just resting her hand there to remind him that she _was_ in the room with them, and reminded him that she'd have to clean Bridges' up later.

His postures relaxed and his shoulders lowered. Julia plucked the crop from his hand and pushed him aside and grabbed Bridge's by the scuff of his shirt, and one handed wrenched him so he was suspended a centimetre of so above the ground.

Dropping the crop, after a spilt second she used both of her hands to release him so he collapsed on the floor again and smacked him clean across the face, surprising Sherlock slightly.

"I'll make him continue if you remain quiet" she growled, in a voice that reminded her of her army days, when she used to threaten troops who she'd suspected to be rebelling against her.

"-so if you want to ever learn how to treat a woman equally and not as a _plaything_-" she carried on, picking up the whip and holding it scarily, not at all sexy. "- and _keep_ your gentiles, then I suggest you speak up now."

"You can't do that!" he protested, grossed and worried that a woman could say such a thing. "Bloody feminist!"

"I was in the army!" she growled, louder this time. "I know how to rip a man's dick off! I've done it before!"

Bridges' paled and Julia would have burst out laughing if she hadn't had to keep a façade on. It was a white lie; she'd known someone who'd done it.

There was a long pause while he considered her offer and groaned in resignation. "The group was there for me when I realised that I was gay."

"So you surround yourself around woman strip clubs to delude yourself that you're straight?" Julia asked. "I've had many friends who've been in denial before."

"Yeah well I kinda screwed myself over and started dealing things that's were against the law, or the government as they put out the laws. The anti-social behaviour was what the group commanded as God was there to observe how bad someone could be."

"It's Christianity gone bad-ass" Julia chuckled darkly. "Why the government plans?"

"It was a new, plan, or scheme to change a way that the police and authorities treat criminals. My gay friend was killed in a shooting, mainly gave him a flashback of Huddersfield."

Julia stiffened and nodded.

Sherlock noticed this but didn't comment. He added a comment. "How did Peters come into the equation?"

Bridges gulped. "He knew that I was corrupt and had to steal the plans back, only didn't plan it very well. He has a weak sight half the time when he forgot his glasses and I think he knew braille to get around. He confronted me one day after work and I, in defence, told him that someone was shagging his wife, only I heard that his wife _was_ having an affair and that seemed to tip him over the edge. I thought he was depressed. Anyway, he stole the plans, only I'd told everyone he was mental, so everyone was against him."

"Did you corner him?" Sherlock asked calmly.

Bridges trembled, showing the first physical weakness since he'd woken. "Nah, I found him in an abandoned warehouse, don't ask why. He was there, he had a gun. He had the plans and seemed to think that he'd keep them to death."

Julia gasped. "He killed himself?"

"I was about to touch his shoulder and prevent him from doing it. But as I reached out – I wanted to apologise about his wife. But all I remember is the echoing bang and watching him fall sideways, blood everywhere. I found the cloth and felt the imprints on it, guessed it was braille. I sent it to the police and stole the plans, there're in my apartment."

"I didn't kill him!" he added quickly. "When I heard he was gonna kill himself, I went there to stop him, I had a change of heart to explain it."

"What change of heart?" Sherlock asked quietly.

Bridges hung his head and started sobbing manically. "Because I was in love with him!"

Julia met Sherlock's gaze and sighed and went to get her medical kit from the bathroom.

* * *

><p>"Bridges <em>confessed<em>?" Lestrade spluttered in disbelief, running his hands through his short greying hair.

Julia nodded solemnly. "I would say it was romantic, but…"

"It overall _wasn't_?" Lestrade finished.

Julia sighed slowly and nodded, grabbing the back of her head and ruffling her hair. "It was a powerful thing for him to come to terms with. Admitting to _yourself_ that you might not be straight is easier said than done. It was difficult for him to come to terms with it."

Lestrade nodded, leaning against the doorframe of his office. They were in Scotland Yard waiting for Sherlock to return.

After Bridges has confessed his actions and Julia had patched him up, silently apologising to each other, Sherlock had rung Lestrade and he'd been arrested. Now they were waiting for Bridges' statement to return.

"Poor guy" Julia muttered softly.

"Which one?"

"Both" she replied. "They could have experience something special if Peters hadn't acted so irrationally. If he'd heard what Bridges had to say, then maybe he would have embraced him and thrown away the gun. _That_ would have been truly romantic."

"So _you're_ a Romantic then?" Lestrade asked slowly.

Julia met his gaze and smiled, knowing what he was hinting at you and then looked away. "You're _married_ Greg."

Lestrade seemed to deflate.

Julia turned to him. "You need to give Karen a chance to explain herself. I have a degree in Psychology, and you two need to learn to stop bickering, and sit down and talk like adults. Send your kids away or whatever, but the fact that you're both stressed and tired won't do any good. Deep down you love your wife and family. Do it for your children Greg."

Her words were sincere and the best advice he could achieve. He returned her small smile and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

"Julie-"

Julia winked at Lestrade's blushed face and patted his shoulder comfortingly, before looking at the tall detective, who looked every part as to get home.

"Yes Sherlock, darling?" she teased.

"We're done here" he said shortly, his eyes narrowed at Lestrade and re-running what he'd interrupted and Julia's response.

"Of course we are" she said and unfolded her arms and wound an arm round one of Sherlock's arms which were tucked into his coat pockets.

* * *

><p>She sensed him looking down at her curiously as they walked out of the Yard and towards the taxi rank.<p>

"What's the matter?" she asked, tilting her head to look up at him as they waited for an available taxi to appear.

Sherlock's brow was furrowed and he seemed to be calculating everything he'd seen and heard. His mind was whirling and he was blown away by the sharp intake of breath his chest had involuntary taken when he'd seen Lestrade's face near Julia's.

Was he _protective_ of Julia?

Was he _possessive_ of Julia?

He was shaken by his 'episode' and when he looked down at her, his confusion melted away because her eyes were alive with satisfaction, but slightly concerned at his odd behaviour. He felt a pleasant feeling in his insides at the thought of Julia being upset or worried about him being injured or unhappy.

He gave her a quick quirk of his mouth twitching at the edges to display that he was 'perfectly fine'.

She sub-consciously clung with more pressure to his arm as they walked into the taxi as it appeared and Sherlock gave the address.

"Something's bothering you" she stated, still not realising that she was holding Sherlock's wrist in her hand. Sherlock didn't notice this either.

"_Are_ you a Romantic?" he asked in his well-educated tone yet sharped.

She chuckled lightly and he turned to her.

"Make a deduction then" she supplied and he dived right in.

"You were reading some books the other week, ones that were some _Agatha Christie_ murder mysteries and also some by a woman named _Erica James_-"

"She is a brilliant author" Julia added. "It's just the way she writes things down; I find it overwhelmingly simple, like your observations."

"My observations are _brilliant_?" he said it like a question.

"_You_ are brilliant Sherlock, there's no denying it" she said softly.

Sherlock's expression (although she didn't spot it) turned soft at her tone and his face fell into a genuine happy look.

"-You just need to control your arrogance about it, that's all." She smirked. Sherlock looked outraged.

"I'm _not_ arrogant!" he spluttered.

She snorted. "Yes, you _are_!"

Sherlock glared at her for a few seconds until she playfully winked at him and he turned away, irritated.

"You can pay for the taxi and the take-away as well tonight" she continued.

"_Whatever_ Julie" he muttered darkly.

Julia just giggled lightly to herself, and Sherlock secretly gave _nobody in particular_ another happy smile.

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR NOTES:<strong>

**Sorry for the long delay AGAIN! **

**Been really busy at college the past few weeks but the next two weeks shall be Easter holidays! Yaay! **

**BUT I gave you an extra long chapter to help you forgive me. Hope you enjoy and please tell me if I haven't tied up anoy lose ends**

**Thanks guys! You're the best and I'm so glad you're all loving this story, I'm grateful for all the positive reviews!**

**:D Rurple101 xx  
><strong>


	21. Chapter 21: Limits at the Pool

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

* * *

><p><em>CHAPTER 21: Limits at the Pool<br>_

* * *

><p>For the past few months, they'd had several minor cases and the larger and more active cases, mainly the ones she'd write a lot more in detail as they were rather gruelling and challenged Sherlock the most.<p>

As he commented snidely at each post, she gained no praise or received any gratitude that she was publishing the cases that brought him more stimulating cases that channelled his brain power every week.

Two of her favourite cases were (what she named them) 'The Blind Banker' and 'The Great Game', the latter which she knew was a lot more scarier than anything she'd experienced. It chilled her to the bone and she'd had her nerve chewed and bitten off and freaked her out, so much so that she hadn't been able to think calmly and rationally she usually did.

The scene at the Pool kept replaying in her head, mainly because John had been there and he'd been captured, as she'd stupidly mentioned him in cases online, being too naïve to realise that he'd be subjected to 'Moriarty' as well.

She remembered what he'd said once she too herself had been captured and John had been taken off to a separate room than she.

* * *

><p><em>"Hello my <strong>dear<strong>" an Irish sounding short slick black haired man said, dressed in a sharp Westwood suit, complete with tie and tie-pin. _

_Julia narrowed her eyes and glared at the man who was looking towards her._

_"Who are you?" she asked; her tone sharp and unwelcome._

_He chuckled and he sounded almost as childish as Sherlock did sometimes when he was in a tantrum. He snickered and crept closer forwards towards her feet, which were tied up as were her hands behind her back against the wall._

_"I am your bomber dearest Doctor Watson."_

_"I **own** no bomber, just heard of an idiot whom calls himself the crazy f***ing bomber who has no ethical morals to balance upon as he must be some criminal!" she snarled harshly._

_"Ooh, feisty aren't you?" he cooed, now at her feet. He crouched down and ran a finger down from her ankle to her tied feet. She shivered, disgusted._

_"No wonder why Sherlock keeps you around, you're a pretty thing to have around for eye-candy" he continued._

_Julia rolled her eyes. "**Please**, Sherlock eye-candy? You don't know him very well I can tell."_

_"Why do you say so? You're an attractive young woman who has an experience which won't intimidate or disgust him, just admire. He won't say this of course, but he'd be fond of any **woman** who befriends him."_

_Julia was confused and curious at the same time. "Huh?" was all she could intelligently utter._

_"He hasn't had any contact with woman all his life, due to every lady he sees, he deducts and he has to dodge an on-coming insult or slap."_

_Julia snorted. "Stop doing that."_

_"What?" he said innocently._

_"You're trying to psychologically creep me out from Sherlock and reveal unhidden things you didn't know that you can use against him. John doesn't know him well enough to give you anything and I won't give anything out. So you might as well save your breath!" she ranted._

_"Well done, I did know about your Psychology degree" he sneered. "First class honours wasn't it?"_

_She didn't move or give anything in response._

_"Fine then, if you won't talk, I guess I'll have to slip it from you."_

_"What do y-you mean?" she cured her slight stutter. _

_"You're no ordinary army medic…" he started._

_He was moving closer to her face, and she couldn't move at all. She followed his position and cringed away from him when his face was inches away from hers._

_"Tell me and I'll leave you alone. Sherlock isn't due here for another five minutes at least."_

_"What?" she gasped quietly. **Sherlock knew she and John were captured?**_

_"He arranged to meet me here, he sent me a little cute message as a first date, meeting one another, so romantic, don't you think?"_

_Julia didn't reply, her eyes revealed her worry and anger. She could feel his breath on her face and she really prayed that his hand wouldn't travel higher up her thigh. _

_She fought not to panic, but she'd never been in an intimate situation like this, with somebody that she really didn't want it with. Was he going to rape her? He'd already sexually assaulted in her books._

**_Oh God, Sherlock f***ing hurry up!_**_ She thought desperately._

_Moriarty leaned in closer and his lips barely touched hers before there was a knock on the door and she instantly pulled away and turned her head towards the wall, breathing rapidly._

_"Boss, he's 'ere!" somebody behind the door grunted._

_"Send the oldie out strapped in the Semtex, I'll be there momentarily with madam here." Moriarty droned in an almost bored tone. He ran a pale white finger down Julia's chin and smirked cruelly at her._

_"You're coming with me sweetheart, up on your feet."_

* * *

><p>What happened next, was an extremely risky thing for her to do, she thought.<p>

She normally tried to hide the fact that she was able to hold her breath underwater for an extra-long amount of time than normal, to fool the others (except John) that she'd drowned.

She'd appeared before Moriarty and smiled sadly at Sherlock's bewildered and confused face, winked sneakily at John who she'd know would remain calm...ish.

Then she'd dived straight into the pool, having overheard that Moriarty had several snipers around the place and she'd slipped her gun from her jean-clad bottom and waited for at least three minutes before…

* * *

><p>Sherlock had watched in horror as he spotted Julia, his flatmate and possibly best friend (if he was capable of having best friends) smile oddly at him before winking at John and then leaped smoothly under the water in the swimming pool they were standing around.<p>

His insides were screaming at him to jump in after her but then he was slightly distracted by the revealing of his new nemesis, Moriarty.

After a few minutes, he realised that Julia hadn't come back up from the water.

"Oh look, the stupid bitch has tried to kill herself" Moriarty said casually. "She didn't exactly like my company it seems."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed, panic and worry thumping his heart faster than ever. "What have you done to her?" he said darkly.

He met John's gaze for a second behind the man's back and caught a reassuring look in his face which told him that Julia knew what she was doing. It didn't really calm him that well.

Moriarty snorted and laughed sinisterly. "You do have a heart Sherlock, and I am going to _burn_ the heart out of you, I didn't plan for _it to run away_ instead."

Sherlock's brow furrowed and even John's expression was thoughtful as he thought over the man's words.

"You're _insane_" he muttered, the gun directly pointed at Moriarty's head.

"Clever boy, you are Mr Holmes" he replied smoothly. "Now I want you to –"

He was then interrupted by several direct gunshots from behind him. Sherlock, John and Moriarty faced towards the pool's surface as the sound reverberated from here.

Moriarty's face fell; his snipers had been taken out, he knew it. _But how?_

There was a great splashing noise as Julia raised her head and took a massive wanted breath of oxygen before she fired two more shots in the direction of the overheard seats in the pool. She swung her head, water spilling off her face and shoulders, as she'd appeared closer to the shallow end of the pool where Sherlock stood beside.

John's face was alight with amusement and pride and Julia shook her head and aimed her handgun at the slick black haired man.

"_You_-" she sneered, her voice hoarse from lack of air. "-will _never_ touch them or me ever again!"

She walked up the steps from the pool and motioned for John to move from behind Moriarty and stand next to Sherlock. Sherlock himself, felt his insides spring happily as he'd seen Julia surface, and relief coursed through his bloodstream.

Moriarty was a little lose footed as he took a strong step backwards, looking at Julia's wet form in astonishment.

"Can I ask _how_?" his child's voice was high and stunned.

"Like you said yourself" she chuckled bitterly, as she stepped confidently forward. "I'm _no ordinary_ army medic. For once, you were right James Moriarty. But the question is what do we do with you _now_?"

There was a long silence, in which the only noise was Julia's increased heaving chest and the steady drip of water off her clothes.

Suddenly a ringtone started; _Bee gees, Stayin' Alive._

Moriarty looked annoyed. "Do you mind if I get that?"

"Oh sure" Julia said comfortingly. "You've got the rest of your life."

He answered the phone call and snapped down the line.

"Hello….what do you want?...Yes of _course_ it is!"

He mouth '_Sorry'_ to the three of them and Julia rolled her eyes.

_"SAY THAT AGAIN!"_ Moriarty roared, his face turning an ugly beetroot colour that didn't suit his outfit.

"Say that again and know that if you're lying to me, I will find you and I will _ski-in_ you" he emphasised.

Julia clicked her tongue, impatiently.

"Ok" he said, holding the mobile's line.

He faced the people and sighed irritably. "Would you rather kill me now and not solve any more cases Sherlock?"

The question made Julia turn her face to Sherlock's to check he wasn't going to answer.

But as soon as she turned, there was the sound of running footsteps.

Julia swore "Ah _FUCK_! Guys stay here!" and she dashed right after

"MORIARTY, GET YOUR ARSE BACK HERE NOW!" her rage was fuming, mainly at her herself.

She ran through the rooms and spotted an open exit door, to see a car speeding off. She walked slowly back to the main pool area where she threw her empty gun across the pool, but missed and it landed right in it.

"_Brilliant_" she snarled as she dived gracefully in after it, reaching it before she reached the bottom. She surfaced and swam still angry back to the two men on the outside of the pool. They were staring at her.

"_What_?" she screamed at them, frustrated.

John stepped forward and pressed two fingers to her wrist, taking her pulse.

"You need to learn to _stop_ doing that" he scolded her.

She snorted. "It's my party-trick, who cares if it weakens my pulse every time I go that little bit longer."

"How long is your limit?" Sherlock asked curiously.

"Last time was a minute and a half" she admitted reluctantly.

"That was _over three_ minutes _Julia Heather Watson_!" John shouted.

Julia cringed, muttering "Sorry John. I had to, it was the best idea I had."

John's expression softened and he gave her a comforting hug, not bothered that he got damp by doing it.

Julia returned the hug and after pulling away but saw Sherlock narrowing his eyes at her. He held his coat towards her, offering.

She smiled hesitantly as she took the coat and wrapped it tightly around her and placed her gun into the pocket.

* * *

><p>John led the way out of the pool and walked halfway down the street to a payphone to hire a taxi.<p>

While he was gone Julia looked at the detective who was still glaring at her.

"I'm sorry I frightened you" she murmured softly, looking down.

She heard a stifled gasp.

Then a clearing of his throat.

She looked up and he was looking sternly at her, but she saw the past-panic in his eyes.

"I'm glad you…_aren't_ _dead_" he confessed, trying to be his normal arrogant and non-caring self. But she saw right through his façade.

Beaming at him, Julia walked forward and leaned up and kissed his cheek before wrapping her arms around his middle and hugging him, resting her head on his lean chest. She didn't look up to see Sherlock's somewhat flushed face.

"Thank you for caring about me, Sherlock" she whispered softly, closing her eyes as she did.

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR NOTES:<strong>

**The reason that this update has been delayed was because I have experience the famous Writer's Block and it was only due to my crazy wild imagination whilst listening to my music (my way to create scenes and scenarios – it's great, try it yourselves) that cured me. **

**Thank you MUSIC! : D**

**Please read, enjoy and possibly review if you wish! **

**Rurple101 x**


	22. Chapter 22: Withdrawn and Revealing

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

* * *

><p><em>CHAPTER 22: Withdrawn and Revealing<br>_

* * *

><p>Over the next few weeks, Julia had hardly any time for herself over the next month and a half until she'd passed her four month 'anniversary' of knowing the tall dark haired detective she was roommates with.<p>

She and John had got into a routine of going out every so often when Sherlock was bored, brooding or just simply making life for any occupant at 221 Baker Street unpleasant. Even Mrs Hudson took longer trips to the supermarket, going to the nearest Tesco, rather than the closer ASDA. They often went to posh cocktail bars when they were feeling rather daring and hyper, and then the local pub for a more dulled but entertaining evening out.

John was starting to notice that Julia had become slightly more withdraw since the Pool and he was concerned about her.

So on the day before her twenty-seventh birthday, he took her aside out of the flat and to their nearest local pub, The Flying Sparrow.

"Julia, are you feeling alright?" he asked, forcing her to meet his gaze. He was alarmed to see some sort of depression or fright in her eyes.

She cleared her throat "I'm perfectly fine."

"Don't play dumb with me Watson" he scolded her. "I've known you for years, and I can recognize when someone is either depressed or hiding something. If Sherlock isnb't considered a friend, then I should think that you can at least trust me-"

"I trust both of you" she snapped. "It isn't a matter of trust anyway."

She sighed heavily and rubbed her hands over her face before taking a long drink of her red wine. After a pause she continued.

"Moriarty cornered me after you were taken away and he, well he… didn't keep his hands to himself."

John looked appalled and furious.

"I don't exactly welcome touches that are administered when I'm being scared, panicked or nervous."

She took a large gulp and leaned closer, whispering. "You know that I was married once, don't you?"

He shook his head silently.

"Basically when I was barely eighteen, my parents wanted me to get married, for some _absurd_ reason and I wasn't exactly welcome to the idea. But they chose to make me marry one of my closest friends, which made everything slightly awkward. We had our own house and everything. It was _ridiculous_! I was still a teenager and I was being treated like a forty year old housewife minus the children running around the house!"

Julia finished the rest of her drink and glared out of the window at the people crossing the relatively busy street in comparison to the half empty pub they sat in.

John cleared his throat "Where do they live?"

"Huddersfield, it's where I grew up" Julia answered, still looking out the window.

"Are you technically still married to this man?"

"No" she turned back to him and held up her left hand for him to examine. There was a very very faint tan line where a ring must have sat for a few years on her marriage finger.

"We divorced just after two years" she said quietly. "When I went into the Army, or rather just before, I didn't…_couldn't_ carry on with that marriage for one obvious reason."

"What reason?"

Julia smirked slightly. "Edward wasn't interested in me, or rather any other woman."

"He was homosexual" John finished.

"Yep" she replied. "So obviously that meant that I never slept with him."

"You knew?" John asked incredulously.

"Oh course I did" Julia said. "I knew because he told me at our engagement party. But if I'd told my parents, then they'd marry me off to someone who didn't know me at all. Edward respected me and knew that I was more nervous around men then I am now. I'm more open and confident around males. But that's probably because I was in the Army for six years."

"Did you parents presume you were gay, so they wanted to force you to have children?" John asked.

Julia was astonished. "Sherlock is rubbing off on you John. That was very quick of you."

"Am I right?"

"Yes, you were" she said slowly, tracing the rim of her glass. "Sam was gay, he was younger than me and they said they'd sacrifice the family name just as long as I had children that they could have and see. They were quite controlling."

John snorted "They sound like it."

"The reason-" Julia continued, her tone and face serious. "- that Moriarty freaked me out, is because – I will just come out and say it – I'm still a virgin. That kind of sexual things when you yourself are inexperience can be very _scaring_ to a person, especially a woman like me."

John was quiet for a moment before he understood what she'd meant before. "He fondled you?"

"No, just kept touching my legs, my thighs and face. He technically did touch my lips with his and I've never felt so sick in my _entire_ life!" Her face was contorted, and she fought to not burst into tears.

John looked at her and saw the young vulnerable woman that she hid from the world, and the reason that she yelled at anybody who made excuses for her as she was young. The fact that she'd never experience sex was a thing that could mentally separate an adult's or a teenagers mind…in a majority of people.

John reached over and took her hand in his. She looked up at him, a tear trickling down her cheek.

"You have me and Sherlock Julia" he said forcefully, trying to get her to remember it. "Me and Sherlock have got you. You do not need to feel afraid."

She gave him a weak smile. "Thanks John."

* * *

><p>They got back into the flat around half eleven, John locking the main black door behind them and he gave her a kiss on the cheek and a big tight hug, which Julia fell into.<p>

"I might not see you tomorrow" he said quietly to her. "So Happy Birthday in advance."

"Cheers John and good night" Julia said, smiling as she watched John got to his door, open it and go in, closing the door to his basement flat behind him.

She sighed loudly and walked up the stairs and entered the living room to see Sherlock sitting there in his seat, and clearly thinking. Her laptop was open next to him on the coffee table.

"Where's John going tomorrow?" he asked curiously.

Julia shrugged. "_Dunno_. Cup of tea?" she offered.

He gave no reply so she sighed again before walking into the kitchen and filled the kettle with water.

"Do I want to go into that fridge?" she called to him. The last time she'd opened it she'd come face to face with a rotting dead human head, it had scared the crap out of her.

Still no reply.

She risked it and opened it sharply. It was empty and she sighed in relief. She flew through the routine of making the tea and when she finished it and turned to Sherlock, he was looking up at her.

"What?" she asked defensively.

He titled his head to one side as he inspected her. "You've been crying."

Julia's expression hardened immediately. She gave him the tea silently and sat down opposite him and avoided eye contact.

"Am I right?" he asked.

"What's its importance to _you_?" she snapped.

He didn't miss a beat. "You cheeks have tear marks trailing down your face. You figure is somewhat slumped and your hands are trembling the tiniest amount."

Julia didn't' bother to check her hands and remained mute.

"And you never fail to surprise me" he murmured distractedly. Julia's interest peaked but chose to ignore that as well.

"Julie-" Sherlock leaned forward, his usual arrogance gone, which slightly shocked her. "-what's wrong?"

Julia didn't like the idea of spilling everything out again to Sherlock and she didn't think Sherlock would understand half as much as John had. John knew how she was, had seen her in some really low times and had always been there to give her the friendly cuddle she needed. It wasn't at all romantic; he was the big brother that she wished she had.

"Ask John when he comes back tomorrow evening" she whispered bitterly before drowning her tea and getting up hastily, moving towards the kitchen. But she was yanked back.

"What's special about John?" Sherlock said, his grip on her arm making her blood accelerate. She turned and looked up at him and strangely didn't feel scared like Moriarty had made her feel.

"John-" she chuckled. "-has been my mentor in some of the hardest years of my life Sherlock" she replied. "He's the kind of man I wish I had as a brother instead of my actual brother."

Sherlock's mind was whirling; he'd guessed that Julia was in love with John, not feeling a sibling fondness towards him.

"Please let go of me" she said shakily. He released her at once.

She took her arm back and turned up at him. "I don't like it when people touch me, especially when they are bad people and creep me out. You and John are exceptions to that rule."

Sherlock furrowed his brow.

She'd been creeped out by Lestrade…no she hadn't. She must have been attacked or touched by someone who'd disturbed all three of them. She was feeling somewhat nervous around males now so that only meant…

"Moriarty" he said.

Julia closed her eyes in submission. "Now both you and John know. I will speak to Mrs Hudson tomorrow if I can be dragged from whatever presents John had no doubt gotton me."

He looked puzzled.

She smiled, a true Julia smile.

"It's my twenty seventh birthday tomorrow Sherlock. I didn't expect you to know or get me anything because that isn't how you are."

She walked towards the door before turning back to him.

"Goodnight and I want a peaceful night's sleep. That can be your gift for me."


	23. Chapter 23: Birthday Gifts and Surprises

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

* * *

><p><em>CHAPTER 23: Birthday Gifts and Surprises<br>_

* * *

><p>Julia woke up on the morning of her twenty seventh birthday when her radio alarm clock which was playing one of her favourite songs. It was <em>Jessie J's<em> _LazerLight_.

Beaming, she lifted herself from her messy bed sheets, singing softly and getting louder and louder as the song carried on. She hit the chorus, almost shouting the words out, rolling around her double bed, closing her eyes when the instrumental went through.

When the song ended she quietly turned it lower but continued singing when her other favourite song by the same artist came on, _Who You Are_. Julia padded across to her wardrobe and wrapped her fluffy dressing gown around her. Julia looked at the mirror and combed her hair slowly, caressing her clean straight hair gently as it shined in the glowing light from behind her cream curtains.

Julia swayed on the spot, making the floorboards creek under her bare feet, but a happy feeling grew inside her chest as she smelled the scent of cooking edible food drifting up the stairs.

The song ended by she made her way downstairs, rethinking the lyrics throughout her head, believing each and every word and meaning that it had been written with it. It was one of her favourites because it was something that made her wake up, smell the coffee, and learn to tackle life as an independent woman.

She walked into the kitchen and beamed at Sherlock as she entered. He seemed slightly put off-guard at her dazzling radiant grin, but returned it mildly, gesturing to the table surface. There was a cup of tea for her, and a plate of perfectly fried eggs, bacon, hash browns, fried tomatoes and sausages complete with fried bread. There was even a bottle of orange juice on the side if she changed her mind.

She seemed somewhat staggered at the kind and thoughtful actions and almost tackled him into a close hug, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek like she did when he did something genuinely intimate between the pair of them.

"You're more compassionate than you let on Sherlock" she said quietly. She gazed at him for a second and a half before sitting down at the table in front of the food.

Sherlock muttered something almost silently as he sat down next to her, with just a cup of his usual black coffee.

"Pardon?" she asked, picking up her cutlery. She looked at him and saw a slightly vulnerably persona inside him, almost worried that he was losing his nerve and grip of being arrogant and cold.

She cut open the fried egg and smiled when the yolk ran, just the way she liked it. She was so absorbed in consuming her delicious breakfast, she almost missed his answer.

"You're worth it Julie."

She looked at him and smiled wider. "You don't have to be a cold git you know, have you ever tried to do your work without worrying that you're going soft? Is that how you deal with looking at dead bodies all the time?"

"When I see a corpse, I see a mystery and an unsolved crime that I make my goal to investigate and catch the right guy. I used to see it as more of a…a way to prove myself that I was right, as when I started nobody would believe a foolish teenager. That was the thing I had to prove, that I was able to prove that the police is wrong, which is what you might see as revenge of sorts to them." Sherlock said in his normal tone, but it was dulled somewhat, no as scathing as usual.

She nodded thoughtfully, rethinking his chosen words.

"At first, I thought you were crazy" she admitted. "But, seeing as I'm usually seen as 'the rational girl' from my mates, I guessed what you were coming from and I think I sensed something off you."

Sherlock was watching her deliberately, smirking at the thought that half her food was gone.

"I think it must have been the compassion you put into your work" she said finally. "You seemed very determined to piss Lestrade and the others off, which I actually found amusing when I look back on it." She chuckled.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, sipping his drink.

"There are all different types of compassion as I'm sure you're aware of" she continued. "But you showed compassion to the job and role you were dedicated to, not to people as most people see as a social norm."

Sherlock tilted his head curiously to the side. "Did you do Sociology?"

"Psychology" she corrected. "at A Level, and at University. I also did Sociology of Religion when I was at college, which was mainly how people see religion in society, rather than focussing on one said religion. I found it very interesting to say the least."

Sherlock questioned her no further on the subject as Julia's phone chimed in her dressing gown pocket. She withdrew it and her face fell.

She groaned. "And there goes my good mood."

She typed a few times on the touch screen of her HTC and then held the phone to her ear as she drank the remainder of her tea. Her plate was clean so Sherlock jumped up and cleared it for her.

He eavesdropped on Julia's conversation, once he heard Julia wince and withdraw the mobile from her ear once he heard someone bellow a birthday greeting at her.

"Samuel, haven't matured much have we?" she said disapprovingly. "But thanks none the less, bro."

There was a pause and Sherlock found himself washing up her plate and mug as she'd finished with it.

"You never get me anything" Julia snorted down the phone. "That's the rule between us siblings."

"No, you asshole, that was Christmas, and I was twelve years old! Daddy thought that was funny. You looked quite dapper in that fairy costume."

Sherlock smirked as he could hear the teasing tone in Julia's voice.

"Yes, twenty seven, I'm an old biddy already. You're only a couple of years below me bro" Julia carried on.

"I've just woken up."

"Sam, stop ignoring he massive elephant between us, go speak to Clara, please?" Julia groaned.

A grumbled response from the other end. Julia's fists clenched on the table.

"If you ruin my birthday I will not forgive you" she growled. "So I'm gunna hang up now and get ready for a good day, _bye_!"

Julia pressed END CALL and thrust the phone back into her pocket and smiled back at Sherlock as if the phone call hadn't happened.

"Anything we doing in specific today?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I can call Lestrade for cases."

Julia stood up and went to walk out. "I'm going to go get changed, be down in a bit."

* * *

><p>When Julia descended from her bedroom, she was wearing some of her brand new stylish clothes she'd bought just before she'd seen John again.<p>

She often shopped at _New Look_ and today was no exception as she was wearing a _cameo rose zip back chiffon blouse_ with dark blue skin-tight jeans with her fashionable short ankle boots with a good heel on them. He hair was slightly curled and it was longer and wavy today due to her session with the hair straighteners she didn't use that often. Second to her hair dryer and straighteners, she preferred her curlers, which she felt gave her more volume to her hair. She applied light and little soft toned make-up, grabbing her navy blue army-styled jacket which she'd wear if they were off out.

Her mobile rang halfway down the stairs. She answered it, without checking the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Good morning Dr Watson."

"Oh god, what do you want now?" she asked Sherlock's elder brother as she walked into the living room heading straight for her laptop which was on top of the messy and cluttered desk.

"Just wishing you a happy birthday" he said, too innocently.

"Oh I'm so flattered that the British Government has spared three seconds to give me a birthday message" she said sarcastically. "But thank you anyway. Is that it?"

"Yes."

The line went dead.

Julia rolled her eyes and put her phone back into her pocket.

Sherlock cleared his throat from where he was sitting, in his armchair and a fresh cup of tea was in front of her on the coffee table. She sat down in her chair, crossed her legs and took the tea smiling once more.

"What's up?"

Sherlock looked somewhat discomforted as he leaned back and said "Close your eyes."

Julia looked startled for a second but shook it off, put her tea down and did what he said.

As her eyelids slid closed she wondered what Sherlock would do to her with her sight momentarily wiped off her.

Her heartbeat picked up somewhat from a recollection of a previous dream she'd had the night before. Sherlock had been too caring, too intimate, too happy and too romantically sweet to be natural and he'd just held her close as she often thought or wished he'd do when she hugged him.

But before her mind picked up on other unknown realisations, she felt his hand, holding her fingers into a cupped position at her chest, and he placed a small package into her open palms.

"You can open them now" he murmured.

Julia was glad that she hadn't blushed at his tone and opened her eyes.

There was a black box in her hands, a world-wide familiar looking small black box. Any woman would know what was inside the box unless she was imagining things. Her pulse thumping, she causally looked pleasantly surprised and slowly opened the box on it sharp hinges.

Inside, on a bed of bright emerald silk, was a solid gold wedding ring.

Her eyes widened but then her rational brain caught up her with her, knowing that Sherlock was watching her reaction.

Or was Sherlock really interes- _of course he wasn't, _why would he want to marry her of all people?

"Is this a present or for a case?" she asked hesitantly.

She finally looked at his face and saw a proud smile there.

"That-" he nodded at the box in her hands. "-is for a case, in which it seems appropriate to appear married to somebody as he might be more likely to open up, this is the criminal at least. You're my assistant and friend so therefore seem the best choice for the role."

Julia was extremely flattered and touched at his words and offer. She felt her eyes water slightly and she smiled in mute as she jokingly said "So I'm _good_ enough to pass off as _your_ wife then?"

He said nothing but leaned back and withdrew another small packet from behind him in the seat. She was suddenly reminded of what Luigi had said on their first case;

_"Nice to meet you, I would have thought your name would go well with Sherlock's…_ _Mrs Julia Holmes, what a nice ring."_

She took the second gift from Sherlock and opened it carefully as this one had been wrapped. Clearly he'd gotton it from the same shop as the wedding ring as it was the same brand stamped on slightly bigger box she unwrapped.

She opened it and gasped silently.

Inside was a very stylish and detailed analogue watch which was a light pink colour, and made from a very shiny metal of sorts. It was the design that wasn't done up by strap and she slipped it on, and it stayed in place on her wrist perfectly.

Looking back at the consultant detective she smirked "This has to be the best birthday I've had and it's not even midday yet!"

Sherlock just rolled his eyes in response but Julia could always read his hidden and unsaid emotions, he was pleased that his gift had gone down well with her.

This was proved by Julia getting up and kissing his cheek for the second time that morning.

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR NOTES: I already know that you guys would love this chapter! ... BECAUSE I LOVED WRITING IT MYSELF! :D <strong>

**Her birthday is going to be today this was published 15th April (and the year she was born, if the current year in this story is 2011) 1984. **

**Technically _today_, in real time would be her 28th birthday but this was set last year...don't ask. LOL.**

**Thank you in advance for reviews and this message is just if I forget to reply with my thanks, or if you aren't a member :)  
><strong>


	24. Chapter 24: Old Friends

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

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><p><em>CHAPTER 24: Old Friends<em>

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><p>Sherlock continued being in a good mood for the meanwhile, heightened by the chance of a new case. People may have noticed that Julia had a new watch on the wrist, having not removed it from when she'd opened the box and hugged Sherlock for his thoughtfulness.<p>

She hadn't had to pay for the taxi for once and Sherlock had allowed her to link her arm through his, as his hands were tucked into his pockets. It was also raining, great torrents of rain pouring straight down, thankfully not the rain that dropped sideways in the wind.

So Julia had adopted her blue umbrella and (despite his protests) had held it high enough above them so Sherlock's head could be protected from the cold drops of pelting rain. His curls were still dry and it was only his shoes that were wet. Julia's high heeled boots were stable enough that she didn't twist her ankle or slip on the wet ground.

"Morning Sherlock, Julia" Lestrade nodded his head in greeting.

"Hi Greg" she replied in her normal kind voice. "What have we got today?"

Lestrade had a big police umbrella above his own head, the rain bouncing off his rubber work shoes. "Follow me."

Sherlock whirled to follow, walking quicker which in turn made Julia walk faster as she had to keep up with him. Only there was a tiny piece of a puddle that she slipped in, and fell towards the ground.

She imagined herself cursing very loudly that her favourite outfit was ruined and wet, but she felt strong arms catching her by the arm and waist that she felt dizzy. She made a very un-lady like screech as she was caught but blushed beetroot when she was lifted face to face with Sherlock.

He didn't say anything, just scrutinized her expression for a split second before releasing her and walking away from her, not allowing her to catch her breath. She ducked down and grabbed her fallen umbrella, not really bothered that she was wet and went to follow Sherlock.

"Always the faithful pet aren't you?" sneered Sally Donavan, kitted out in a high visibility (and highly unattractive) jacket, arms crossed and her face full of her flyaway hair.

Julia pulled herself up to her full height and rolled her eyes at the Sargent. "Is that an attempt of an insult?"

"Yes, I suppose so" Sally replied.

The rain was the only noise that dominated over the silent bickering. Julia looked right at Donavan and sighed.

"Look, how about we stop this bickering. It's not exactly professional is it? We only started this tiff off because my anger was on a short fuse and you tried to boss me around, and you're insulting my friend. _Deal_?"

Julia held her hand out, offering a handshake. Sally looked at it in disgust.

"You think you're so mature" she sneered again.

"No, I'm the grown up woman apologising" Julia stated calmly.

Sally didn't move or indicate she was going to move. Julia sighed again, shook her head, withdrew her hand and followed after the detective.

The body they had found wasn't exactly pretty, but her face was obvious that she had been. The young blonde had deep blue eyes, forever frozen in the same state of horror, with the rain substituting the tears of pain that her attacker had enforced on her. It was hard to see her, as she looked no more than eleven years old.

"Julie, check the body, tell me what you think" Sherlock ordered her.

Julia sighed, and crouched down, extracting her medical gloves from her pocket. Sherlock did an oddly characteristic thing of him to do; he held onto her brolly as she pulled her gloves on. She thanked him, giving him an odd look, before looking down over the girl and checking her wrists, arms, chest, legs, feet, neck and face.

"Her arms have been cut" she said, pulling the long thin cheap sleeves of a top upwards, revealing long pale veins that had obviously been slashed. "Her eyes look fearful but…somewhat distant and distraught."

Julia looked down at the fingernails, which had "black dirt and some dried blood probably in the fingernails, short nails so she'd have been clawing at something, her nails have been snapped off-"

"Snapped off?" Lestrade asked.

"She wore fake nails" Julia said normally, continuing her inspection. "Her neck has been bruised but doesn't look like she'd been strangled. However, her…"

Julia froze, her eyes widening. She looked at the eyes again and then leaned closer until she was looking straight into the girl's eyes. She saw some spark in them, hope even. Julia extracted her small pocket mirror from her pocket and held it up in front of the girl's opening mouth.

_Breath_, weak but there, fogged up the glass.

"YOU _ASSHOLES_!" She bellowed, livid. "SHE'S STILL FUCKING _ALIVE_! GET AN AMBULANCE AT ONCE!"

Julia heard everybody in the surroundings gasp and jump into action. She leaned closer to her young girl and whispered to her. "Can you move? Can you twitch your fingers at all?"

The girl looked so vulnerable and miserable, that Julia's eyes watered herself and she grabbed her mini first aid kit from her coat pocket, her nerves halting and she focussed on saving the girl.

"Sherlock, how the hell did you not realise that she was alive?" she bit out as she worked, opening her bag, and grabbing a needle and filling it with some morphine and other knock out drugs.

Now that they'd determined the girl was alive, her posture seemed more broken and Julia guessed that her bones had been bashed and snapped.

"I didn't" came a quietly stunned voice of the detective.

Julia didn't bother looking up at him. She leaned down and started blowing air into the girl's mouth, trying to activate the drugs she'd injected.

"Sherlock, move her legs, she might have broken bones and I need to find out how many and which ones" she ordered in her busy military doctor tone.

Having noticed her changed voice, Sherlock didn't argue and got to work, trying to straighten her legs, the girl showing ore pain and life as she moaned louder and louder. Then the girl started crying, soft at first but she sounded so distressed it went straight to Julia's heart. _She was still a child!_

"Hey, hey" Julia cooed, trying to calm her. "It's ok, I know it hurts, but the more you breathe and the deeper, you will spread the painkillers around your body. Then you can sleep and being in no more pain, I absolutely promise."

The girl stopped crying and Julia wiped away her tears with her index fingers, smiling encouragingly.

"I will look after you I promise" Julia swore, placing her hand on her chest. The girl gave her a weak timid smile before her eyes rolled and she passed out.

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><p>The ambulance team had arrived and didn't argue with Julia as she shoved her army ID in their faces, allowing her and Sherlock to sit inside whilst they travelled to the hospital.<p>

Once there, Julia ran into a changing room and disrobed her birthday outfit, for a medical surgeon one and went straight into surgery with the little girl, whilst she ordered Lestrade to find an ID for her.

Sherlock was surprisingly quiet, silently in awe of the amount of care, courage and effort that Julia placed in her role as a doctor. It was hard to see her as 'Julie' when she was dressed as 'Captain Doctor Watson'.

He waited outside in a waiting room, until he became impatient after about an hour.

Another two hours went by before Julia, covered in sweat and dried blood staggered out of the operating theatre and (after disrobing her apron and gloves) sank into the closest chair and placed her head in her hands, sobbing loudly.

"Who does that to a little girl?" she whimpered, tears flowing freely down her face and her entire frame shaking frantically.

Sherlock froze once he'd seen her and felt alarmed once she started crying. He took a gulp of courage himself before he stood up and perched on the armrest of the plastic chair Julia sat on and pulled her with one arm into him.

Julia's reaction was immediate, she slumped and her head rested face down on his knee whilst she was clearly trying to compose herself. But then Sherlock slipped an arm around her neck and hesitantly, stroked a finger there, silently saying that she didn't need to collect herself.

Julia broke into another round of tears and Sherlock carefully slid down and lifted Julia so he was in the chair and she was sitting on his lap, her face on his shoulder.

They sat like that for at least half an hour, Sherlock not really focussing in on the fact that he held his female flatmate in a romantic-looking embrace as she cried her eyes out.

"Did she live?" he asked softly.

"Yes" she croaked. "But she _can't speak! Can't walk! Can't even breathe properly_!"

Sherlock tightened his grip round her shoulders and chest, letting her burrow deeper into his coat. "At least she's alive Julie."

"I failed-"

"How did you fail?" he snapped, annoyed that Julia was crying – _on her birthday_! – about a child who has obviously been through a great deal.

Why could Julia be so selfless and he couldn't? Things weren't going to plan today.

"She's alive, isn't she?" he carried on harshly. "You will stop blaming yourself, when she was lying there, she could barely move or speak so you might have guessed that already. Don't be so tough on yourself Julie because you don't deserve it!"

Julia's head snapped up to be level with his, her eyes red and sore, swollen from her now being tired and the tear trails down her soft creamy skin.

"What do you suggest I do instead?" she whispered, her breath blowing in his face and slapping his cheekbones lightly.

Sherlock didn't answer; at least not right away, he was caught in Julia's eye lock, forgetting to keep breathing until she turned her head and he gasped almost freakishly.

Julia's blood was racing; her heart was beating twice as usual.

_Had she almost kissed her flatmate?_

"Come on" Sherlock's usually arrogant tone broke her defences. They got up and he grabbed her coat and things from a locker and passed them to her. "Get changed and we'll go back home."

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><p>Julia sat quietly in the taxi on the way back to the flat and closed her eyes, suddenly feeling very tired. She needed to calm down, Sherlock was right, it was her birthday and she should be a little bit more cheerful. She'd cleaned her face of tears and decided to apply a little make up to brighten her appearance.<p>

Sherlock's phone chirped his text alert. He picked it up and glanced at the text:

**We're ready, does she suspect anything? – John**

He glanced at Julia who seemed to be forcing herself to cheer up. His insides churned with worry and replied:

**I believe not. Five minutes. – SH**

Pocketing his phone, he caught Julia's attention, his mind going back to the almost-kiss in the hospital. Was it just an in-the-moment thing? What was going on between them?

"Sherlock?" she whispered.

He turned his head to her in reply.

"I'm sorry about my outburst earlier, it wasn't very professional."

Her gaze was sad and almost disappointed.

"You're disappointed with yourself" Sherlock summarised and his brow furrowed. "Why?"

Julia looked down at her clasped hands before answering. "It's been a while since I've had to keep my hard cap on my emotions. I've always loved children because they're so innocent, carefree and happy. My maternal instinct lost control of me today and I only just manage to remain in control in the theatre."

Sherlock met her gaze and thought for a moment before he held out his left arm, open for her. She smiled shyly before scooting over the seat and laid her head on his chest, his outstretched hand holding onto her mid arm.

"It happens Julie. I'm always professional so I don't really understand that well."

She snorted into his chest. Lifting her head she rolled her eyes "I know Sherlock."

Julia felt the crackling electricity that she'd not realised before between her and Sherlock. The detective's lose but safe hold on her was comforting and without thinking, inhaled his scent from him. He smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and a faint smell of that expensive aftershave came wafting into her nostrils.

The cab turned into Baker Street and when it halted in front of 221B, Julia looked up at Sherlock, squeezed his hand in thanks, and got out. Sherlock paid the cabbie, whom raised his eyes suggestively at him. He ignored him. Scrambling out, he caught up with Julia as the door swung open. Catching the door and closing it gently, he followed the doctor up the stairs.

"At least smile!" he said exasperatedly.

She paused and raised an eyebrow at him in confusion. They were right in front of the door to their main living area. Sherlock opened the door and as it swung open, he flicked the lights on.

"_SURPRISE_!"

Julia almost jumped out of her skin as she spotted the scene in front of her.

There were people in the flat, quite a lot of people, people she – as she scanned the crowd – recognized. There were old school friends, ones that had bullied her, made up with her, two elderly ladies, a pair of men whom were holding hands, with beams of delight on their faces. There was Mrs Hudson, Lestrade, Mycroft, John's latest catch (a secretary called Lucy) and John himself.

Her eyes widened and she burst out laughing in spite of herself. She had never had a surprise birthday party sprung on her before.

"Happy Birthday" Sherlock said quietly from beside her. She looked at him and he had a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. Then she remembered; the text he'd received in the cab, the secret smile…

Instead of questioning him on the spot, her smile widened and she leant up and kissed him on the cheek before walking into the welcoming crowd of well-wishers.

"Oh happy birthday Julia!" Mrs Hudson squealed, squeezing her tightly into a hug.

Julia returned the hug and smiled again. Her face hurt from smiling so much.

"Thank you Mrs Hudson."

"There's a huge pile of presents for you" Mrs Hudson carried on. "I've put them on the counter as the kitchen table is laden with enough food to feed us until Christmas!"

"Should I promise to do the washing up?" Julia asked smiling.

Mrs Hudson rolled her eyes and Julia laughed, not imaging Mrs H to pull it off so well.

She then was greeted by some old primary school friends who she'd still maintain a weak contact with. She did feel a lurch of disappointment, she missed Abi and Charlotte.

Then she was 'harassed' by Mycroft, being saved momentarily by Sherlock who gave her a champagne glass.

"Happy Birthday Doctor Watson" Mycroft said in his usually pompous tone.

Julia had had enough of his lack of oaths and crude language so decided to show.

"For fuck's sake, call me Julia, I'm not a doctor in my private life!" she ranted at the possible MP/Freelancer person who was Sherlock's elder brother.

Mycroft's eyebrows disappeared and he scowled at her, reminding her of her grandfather.

He was about to respond when a pale and firm hand was held in front of her, bearing her drink. She smiled at the holder and slipped the glass from his grip. "_Merci Beacoup_ Sherlock."

"You speak French?" they both asked.

"Why is everything in life a pop quiz?" she snapped defensively. "No, I got an E in my GCSE at French, I suck at it."

"Then wh-?"

"Because I'm random" she said in the same tone, less harsh.

Sherlock chuckled.

"Surprised you haven't gone digging for the French fancies that are sitting all so innocently on the kitchen table Mycroft" Sherlock said slyly.

Mycroft flushed and glowered at his brother.

"They're for me Sherlock, haven't you heard?" Julia's voice didn't sound like she was teasing, but Sherlock heard her playful tone. "Mrs Hudson says that cakes with luscious icing are for me. I have my own trolley of them like Mycroft-"

"Shut up Miss Watson" Mycroft snarled.

"Oh back to ignoring my only achievement, eh?" Julia taunted, the drink having gone to her head. "Ok, potato head!"

Walking toward Lestrade she heard Sherlock's bark of laughter and Mycroft's hidden oath.

"Hey Greg" she said smiling. "You travelled bloody quickly to get back here before us."

"You forgot that you were in the hospital for hours Julia" he said, trying to keep the conversation light.

Julia shrugged and drained her glass, wandering carelessly over to the table where the expensive bottle sat. As she did though she heard a heart-warningly familiar voice.

"Yo _biacth_! What time do you call this?"

The entire party in the flat froze and Julia turned, unable to hide her smirk. Her eyes were alive with amusement.

She bit her lip obviously and twirled once. The old routine it'd used to be.

"Dance?"

"Nope" came Abi Edison's reply as she stood proudly in the doorway with Charlotte Green beside her.

"That comes into you stupid cow!" Julia retorted, hearing the people gasp around her.

"Slut up shut!"

"Plop low down!"

Julia tried her best to contain her laughing. "Oh hell's teeth" she skipped over to them and embraced them tightly.

Abi and Charlotte laughed as she did and after a minute or so pulled away.

Julia looked around at the stunned audience.

"We do know each other!" she snapped lightly and they laughed.

"What's been going on Jewel?" Charlotte asked her. "-and who's that sexy beast behind you, watching us?"

Julia turned and spotted Sherlock wink at her and deliberately eat a pink frosted French fancy. She burst out laughing at Mycroft's outraged expression.

"That's Sherlock, my flatmate and best friend."

"_Special_ friend?" Abi's eyes looked suggestive.

"Special, but not in the way you think, Abs."

"What way Jewel?"

"He is not a _fuck-buddy_ of mine; you know what I'm like."

"What's a fuck-buddy?" came a voice from behind her. Julia whirled round and Sherlock was there, looking confused. "Fuck is a curse word. I didn't realise it had a meaning."

Now why did Julia find Sherlock swearing attractive?

"Errm…" Julia's face flushed. "I'll explain later Sherlock."

"She's crazy for it!" Abi declared. "Pawing the ground eager to go and get some mind-blowingly good fu-"

"_ABI_!" shouted Julia. "Put a lid on it!"

Julia's face was scarlet, knowing full well what Abi had been implying.

Sherlock's face was confused and intrigued at the same time. He gazed at Julia's whose face just went redder.

"What is a f-"

Julia clasped a hand over Sherlock's mouth to shut him up, her cheeks a dark beetroot colour.

"Shut up" she murmured, looking directly at Sherlock in the eye.

He removed her hand from his mouth with a scowl. He didn't drop her hand though. Only Charlotte, Abi and John took notice of this.

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><p><strong>By the way, I LOVE YOU GUYS because I've now recieved 100 reviews for this story! Took you guys long enough (I joke x). <strong>

**ALSO - I have a tumblr account UNDER THE NAME : Rurple101 and under the link "_rurple101_ DOT _tumblr_ DOT _com_".**

**- I say a lot and have uploaded pictures of Julia's outfits :)  
><strong>


	25. Chapter 25: Nasty Returns

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

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><p><em>CHAPTER 25: Nasty Return<em>

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><p>The party was going on well after Julia's reunion with Abi and Charlotte, still not realising that she was still holding Sherlock's hand. An hour and a half went past and Julia was just finishing her fourth glass of champagne when there was a knock at the door and it opened.<p>

Julia's eyes widened as she whirled round, still a little weak on her heels. Sure enough, in the doorway, was Edward Edgecombe, her ex-husband. Everyone in the room had frozen as Julia put a hand over her mouth in horror; _this couldn't be happening._

John spotted Julia's horrified expression and felt somewhat worried. Edward had assured him that Julia would have wanted to see him. _Had he been lying?_

Finally Julia spoke and due to her drink, her tongue was loosened.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing here?" she hissed, putting her empty glass down.

"Nice to see you too Jewel" Edward muttered, disappointed at the reaction.

Julia rounded on him and charged towards him, pushing him out the room and slamming the door closed behind them. She dragged him down the stairs towards the front door. Edward froze his feet and Julia stumbled.

"Why didn't you see me Jewel?" Edward sighed unhappily, grabbing her arm. "I missed you."

Julia's eyes narrowed "I went into a _fucking_ warzone, what did you expect. Plus, neither of us wanted that marriage, I'm glad it's over!"

Edward cringed in hurt but realised that Julia was a little drunk and might not say it _this harshly_ if sober…or maybe she might. He edged towards her, subconsciously cornering her into the corner. Julia's eyes watered in sadness.

"Leave me alone Edward" she moaned. "I don't want this, I never have."

Edward glowered. "Just because you have commitment issues, that's the only reason your stupid parents thought to _cure_ you!"

_SLAP_!

Edward had clearly touched a nerve as Julia had delivered a fully ringing slap to his cheek.

"_Fuck_ off Edward, I don't want you here!" she shouted angrily.

Edward's reply was to hastily clasp her hands and a pleading expression came across his face. "What have you told your friends upstairs about me Julia? Do they know who I am?"

"You _aren't_ my husband anymore you jerk, get your filthy hands OFF ME!" she smacked his hands off her. "You can't control me like Dad and _that fucking bitch_ thought you could! I am my own fucking person and no man, no woman; no-_fucking_-body will control me, because those days are _motherfucking_ OVER!"

Edward paled somewhat but grabbed at her still, his hand accidently colliding with her breasts.

Julia's rage flew off the handle as she wrenched open the front door and literacy _kicked_ him out of the door, slamming it harder than ever closed behind him.

There was thumping on the door "_Julia! Let me in this instant!"_

Julia opened the mailbox and screamed "_Fuck_ off and leave me alone!" out of the door before storming back up the stairs to the party, fighting the anger that was clawing at her insides.

She was aware that her eyes held fire of anger still, her face red from yelling and throat sore from screaming. She calmed her expression and went back into the living room calmly, not realising that everyone had heard she was yelling, and walked straight past Sherlock, who'd heard every word that had been spoken, having sat on one of the stairs.

Everyone was eyeing her warily.

"Do not let that disgusting man into this house again, am I clear?" she said in a deathly calm voice.

They all nodded slowly at her and she smiled, walking across the room and turning the radio on which someone had switched off.

"Where were we?" she said sweetly.

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><p>Three hours later, when everyone had gone, Julia had grabbed Abi and Charlotte's new numbers, hugged a majority of her guests and sang out of tune as she normally did when she was drunk, she collapsed on the sofa.<p>

She went to blink but as her eyes closed, her brain and gaze switched over and she fell straight asleep.

Sherlock came back into the room from changing into his night top, trousers and dressing gown and heard her familiar soft little snores coming from where she lay uncomfortably on the small hard mattress of the sofa.

He approached her and rethought over what she'd said earlier. "_I am my own fucking person and no man, no woman; no-fucking-body will control me, because those days are motherfucking OVER!"_

She was definitely independent, and she didn't sound like she had commitment issues as the man ('Edward') had spoken of. She was strong, determined but also calm, collected and friendly. Kind and beautiful.

Sherlock's brow furrowed; _had he just called his flatmate_ '_beautiful'_?

He looked her over; examining her _now_ chestnut curls, having spotted the photographs in her own room of her hair dyed different colours. Personally he found that the chestnut brown was his favourite shade she'd had.

Her lips were open, breathing in and out of her delicate frame.

Her light and wavy top accentuated her curves on her hips and shoulders, moulding them perfectly. Her skinny jeans, he subconsciously found attractive although never really acknowledged it.

Deciding to sort his thoughts out in the morning he leaned over Julia, _his Julie_, and lifted her easily in his arms and started walking upstairs to put her to her own bed. By the time he reached the top of the stairs he found the sensation of holding her close to him was oddly pleasant.

Julia shifted; muttering incoherently and her fingers brushed his front, holding onto his lapel of his dressing gown, like a four month year old baby holding onto its mother for security.

_Aww_, he thought.

_What was **that**, Sherlock Holmes? Did you bloody coo at a simple baby-like gesture?_

He shook it off and, one handily lifted the sheets up and placed her neatly in the little almost, womb-like shape of the covers, knowing that she'd be warmer than lying on the sofa so she crooked her neck in the night. He went to her radiator and realised that it was still broken. She'd notified him of this maybe a week previously, but he hadn't been listening.

He looked at her sideboard and sighed at himself when he spotted the box that held the 'engagement ring' he'd given her. The case that Lestrade had asked him to do next involved them going away and pretending to be a married or engaged couple. He felt that it would be convincing to act as a possible victim than go snooping around and standing on people's toes.

What was prompting him to act the part rather than snoop as he usually did?

He looked over at Julia again, sleeping quietly but with an uncomfortable look on her face.

Acting on a wild guess he walked over to her and touched her hand softly. Her face relaxed somewhat but her face contorted again, and mumbled something. He leaned closer-

"_Sherrlick…_" she mumbled again, closing her fingers around his on her hand and clung to it, giving it a pitiful yank. "Sher—_sherry_…"

Sherlock was conflicted, should he get in besides her? He normally woke early so he could stay and then remove himself before she noticed. Or should he be his old self and slink off to his own room where he won't sleep at all and feel cold inside whilst up here was warmer, yet not in temperature.

_And what **was** a fuck buddy?_

He sighed slowly again and slipped in beside Julia, pulling her towards him and encasing her in his arms, her head drooping onto his chest but not before he saw her face lighten and continued her normal soft snoring.

Sherlock breathed in her honey scent and closed his eyes, revelling in the pleasant feeling of sharing a bed with someone as well as yourself.

But once he closed his eyes, he promptly fell asleep instantly for the first time in years.

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><p><strong>Author Notes: yaay, fluffy! :D Please review! Thank you in advance! xx<strong>


	26. Chapter 26: The Next Morning

**Dr. Capt. _Julia_ H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

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><p><em>CHAPTER 26: The Next Morning...<br>_

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><p>Julia's head felt groggy; really groggy and it felt like thousands of tiny needles were poking her in the eyes, nose, head, cheeks, hands, everywhere.<p>

She groaned and then moaned at the pain that the noise brought upon her ears, crashing the sound waves in a constricting but agonising manner.

She felt around for something to sit up with, to stabilise herself so she wouldn't chunder as soon as her head became its usual level. Even _thinking_ about it made her stomach start to churn and her mind began to spin, making the sickly feeling worsen.

She slowly slotted herself so she was sitting upwards and was stable enough to slide her feet off the bed, onto the cool floor of her bedroom and trot next door to her bathroom.

Halfway there, her slow progress was halted by the sudden erupting of her belly. Her hand flew to her mouth and she almost leapt through the door and her knees thumped painfully on the tile floor in front of the clean (thanks to Mrs Hudson) toilet.

After what felt like ages of emptying her swollen stomach, she sat back on her legs and wiped her mouth with some toilet roll, barely conscious.

The bathroom floor was cold, too chilled for her body to recover from the over exhausting recovery of alcohol evacuation.

Trembling and head pounding, Julia ripped the jeans off her clammy legs, freed herself from her wispy top leaving herself in just her bra and knickers.

Hardly bothered to go over to her dresser and too hot to consider more clothing, she stumbled towards her bed, bleary eyed and sank gratefully back into the soft and warm covers. But before she fell asleep, she felt a movement and rolled over sub consciously, her eyes firmly closing on her.

* * *

><p>When Julia next awoke, it was to the dull light of late afternoon. The clock beside her bed read <strong>17:54<strong> and she moaned; irritated but overall glad that her pounded headache was a blur and she no longer felt weak and sticky.

Groaning softly, she half fell out of bed. Snorting to herself she walked into her bathroom again, deciding on a long hot soothing bath. She wouldn't be able to sleep again, having slept half the previous night and all day.

Grabbing her bath robe, she covered herself and slipped out of her bedroom door (after running the water for her bath), yawning, and slowly descended the stairs to the downstairs rooms.

Sherlock wasn't around; the door to his bedroom door stubbornly shut and she could heard the faint noises through the floorboards at her feet of Mrs Hudson bustling around her small flat below. Julia walked over to the kettle, filled it with water and then set about making a cuppa whilst the water boiled.

Yawning again, she didn't notice that she wasn't alone.

"Good evening Julie" Sherlock greeted her, ever more the arrogantly proud man he always sounded. She turned, too tired to be surprised and sub consciously made an instant deduction, so fast she startled herself.

Sherlock had just walked in the door from the hallway into the kitchen, the main sliding door into the messy living room closed from the previous night's party which she dreaded cleaning up. Also Sherlock hadn't come in from his bedroom, dressed sharply in his expensive suits.

He was dressed in a pair of sleeping bottoms, his dressing gown nowhere to be found and his shirt was plastered to his skin with sweat, revealing every toned muscle and line in his chest.

He had _followed_ her from upstairs…which meant that he had…

…_no_.

Julia shook her head, not quite awake yet unless she had her bath soon.

Not having responded to him apart from gape sleepily at him, she grabbed her tea mug and walked past him and back upstairs to her bath.

* * *

><p>It was only after her bath and her cup of tea that Julia realised what she had deducted from beforehand.<p>

Sherlock had followed her downstairs…and only her bedroom was upstairs. His hair had been messy in the way that it had only been made that messy from sleeping for an extended amount of time. He must have slept the same amount of time that she had, she hadn't recalled falling asleep in the first place.

All she remembered was the nasty return of her ex-husband, the yelling, seeing her old friends again and a small smile of Sherlock's mouth that she adored.

Her theory was confirmed when she walked back into her bedroom and spotted the messy states that was her bedroom. Her clothes that she did remember stripping off hurriedly were flung near the window on where she'd vacated the bed rather quickly.

Her bed was quite a big and she normally slept closer to the window side of the bed. There was a big tell-tale lump of an imprint of where somebody had obviously slept in the bed there. But there was an identical shape imprint beside hers, almost meshed together.

She hadn't panicked as she would have done if she'd been completely sober and couldn't remember anything. Strange for her to be so calm and collected about a series of events. She felt that there wasn't that much of a deal to be made of it.

_But why had Sherlock slept in the same bed as she had?_

Julia knew that Sherlock rarely slept for long periods of time, having gone to bed later than her but still awake and chirpy and dressed by the time she staggered downstairs in the mornings.

She walked back downstairs, holding her empty mug and dressed in her jogging bottoms and green hoodie, which she left down.

Julia spotted the detective, still dressed in night wear, at the kitchen table staring off into space. Julia found this puzzling; when did Sherlock faze out and stare at the wall doing nothing?

"You ok Sherlock?" she asked, clearing her throat lightly.

It did the trick and he almost jumped at the sight of her standing before him, eyebrow raised but still looking concerned. He didn't reply.

"I haven't had a hangover that bad for years" she said, feeling uneasy with his probing eyes on her and making small talk. "I don't normally pass out like that."

His staring was starting to annoy her.

"What?" she said defensively, crossing her arms across her chest and half-glaring at her flatmate.

Sherlock looked away and sighed. Then he got up and wandered towards his bedroom door.

"Sherlock?" Julia rounded on him, too stubborn to let it drop. "What's the problem?"

"You're _not_ going to ask why I slept in your bed last night?" he asked, not meeting her eyes but staring in her overall direction.

Julia's brow furrowed.

"Well I presume that I probably fell asleep early and you took me up to my room because you've done that before." She said simply. "And you were tired and accidently fell asleep next to me. It's somewhat normal to subconsciously want the comfort of someone sleeping beside you."

Sherlock considered her for her a moment and nodded.

"I'm not…err…_angry_ at you Sherlock" she said, hesitantly. She was surprised at how easily and casual she was about the situation herself.

Sherlock gave her a brief smile before slipping into his bedroom to change.

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><p><strong>I would say I'm sorry about the long delay, because I've got the excuses of going to work and forgetting to update, but also the fact that I've had <em>absolutely<em> NOTHING inspirational inspiring me to write another chapter.**

**No idea when next chapter will be out, but thanks for all your support and that you love the story!**

**: D**


	27. Chapter 27: Sherlock's Questions

Now this chapter was quite funny to write, mainly because I made Sherlock look rather dumb. Not _that_'s a change! Enjoy!**  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Dr. Capt. <strong>**_Julia_**** H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

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><p><em>CHAPTER 27: Sherlock's Questions<em>

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><p>It was the evening of the day after her birthday and Julia was sitting in front of the TV set and was flicking through the channels slowly. Sherlock was sitting silently studying some odd samples through the microscope.<p>

Then all of a sudden, he looked up sharply at her relaxed figure and blurted out "What's the interest in sex, Julie?"

Julia blushed furiously and then turned to gape at the detective.

"Wh-_What_?" she stammered.

Sherlock's gaze was unembarrassed and quite direct. He stood up, walked over towards her, removed the remote from her hand and switched the television off. He then proceeded to take her hand gently, which was un-nerving her. She followed his actions, confused and he guided her towards his bedroom.

Now quite alarmed, she halted once they were in his neat bedroom and he closed the door behind him.

"Are you trying to seduce me Sherlock?" she asked nervously and a smirk was tugging her lips upwards at her words and the person she was applying them towards.

Sherlock's face was impassive and he was worrying her a little. He moved towards her slowly and asked, quite innocently "Why do people do it?"

He said it with such childish curiously that she actually considered his question.

"_Well_-" she started, thinking it over seriously "-because of how it makes a person feel. The emotions that run through your body are very strong and passionate. It makes sense that if something feels nice, then a person is more likely to do it again."

Sherlock sat down on the edge of his somewhat messy bed and asked "Have you had-?"

She shook her head. "I've come close, but no cigar."

"_When_?" he asked, unaware of how private it might be to someone.

Typical Sherlock.

"Do you really _not_ understand the reasons and logic behind procreation Sherlock? Think about it sensibly, the human body is designed to reproduce! It would make sense to make the process inviting as to encourage humans to do it!" she said, almost exasperatedly.

"People believe it unites their bodies. It's immensely dominated by your sense of touch and ability to feel the intimacy in the air. There's a reason why it's noisy, because the feelings are incredibly _mind-blowing_. You've heard of the phrase '_love-making'_ I presume?"

Sherlock nodded, for once listening closely and not sneering at her.

Hmm, _not_-so-typical-Sherlock.

"It's because, they feel…-"she hunted for the correct words. "-so strongly and passionately towards each other and so they _make love_ because they love each other, and especially with women, you make them feel loved, feel wanted and feel special."

Sherlock's eyes were pinned to her and she lost herself in his gaze by accident. His beautifully greenish blue irises were intrigued and something that she associated with his love of _experimenting_ was brewing there.

"I know what you're thinking now" she said, feeling her cheeks flame, and looked away from him.

"Why are you blushing?"

His voice and tone was soft and unlike anything she'd heard from him before. It was between curiosity and actual confusion…and maybe concern.

"You want to experiment, _on me!_" she snapped defensively and whirled round, crossing her arms angrily. "You might _not_ be laced with sentiment and love Sherlock but _I am_! I'm _not_ your human guinea pig! I have feelings!"

"I know you do" Sherlock's voice sounded more normal now, a hint of indifference creeping in. He looked a little disappointed and she could have sighed with relief.

"_But_-" he stood up and touched her shoulder, she froze, not turning around. "-what's the difference between a kiss and a snog?"

She smirked and a laugh left her before she could stop it. Turning she looked up at his puzzled expression.

"Time and passion" she answered simply. His expression grew more confused so she explained.

"Love and sex go hand in hand Sherlock because love is the motivation behind 95% of sex causes. The other is when sex is recreational and with '_no strings attached'_ as they say."

_It's not like I've really experienced it_, she thought.

"Meaning, no baggage, like marriage and children?" he asked.

She nodded "A bit. Mainly that if two people have sex and agreed no strings attached, then they would wake up the next morning and separate and go on with their normal lives, no form of a relationship coming from the result of it. It's used when people get sexual frustration."

"Which _is_?" he prompted.

She bit her lip. "It's hard to explain without demonstrating. I only know this much because-" she stopped and took a deep breath.

"You were married" he said, finishing her sentence.

She shuddered at the memory. "Edward was hardly romantic. He was my best friend, and I never saw him as anything more. I was forced into it and he tried to seduce me. I was pissed but not so much that I could not stop him."

Sherlock's jaw dropped with an audible pop.

"He tried to _rape_ you?" he asked.

There was horror and also a little bit of anger in his voice. Her insides warmed as they always did when he raised his protective streak of her.

"I'm touched Sherlock" she smiled warmly. "But there is '_no rape when you're married_', unfortunately. '_Women are the property of their husbands_', or so I was _told_. Being the rebellious teenager, I ignored my step-mother's words."

She carried on. "Sexual frustration is usually between people who are intimate and close to each other and feel _electricity_ in the air. Their bodies _hum_ almost as if to encourage them. Your bodies talk to each other."

"What does it feel like?" he asked, sounding too excited and curious for her liking.

"I have a bad feeling it would make me look like I'm taking advantage of you" she muttered. "Because you don't fully understand."

He rolled his eyes. "I won't get mad, promise."

She sighed. "Sit on the bed and I'll demonstrate. I apologise in advance if I accidently slip you sentiment, but it pours off me, I'm afraid."

He looked puzzled and he sat on the bed and she sat opposite him.

"It all happens with intimacy" she explained. "Physical closeness and attraction matter in this case. If I were to lean in like _this_-" she leaned so closely to him that they both felt each other's breath on their faces.

Sherlock felt his heartbeat increase and saw the doctor's pupils dilate. Somehow, the reaction pleased him.

"Do you feel the humming?" she breathed, her breath blowing across his cheekbones. He was surprised to find the feeling very pleasant. He nodded, and some instinct was screaming at him to act, to pull her closer…

"It's…_odd_" he summarised.

"What do you _feel_?" she asked, quietly again. "What do you _feel_ like doing? Turn off your brain for a second."

He closed his eyes and concentrated hard on what he felt. He felt the bed sheets below his legs and feet, feel the heaviness in the air which had something to do with the soft light lavender smell that was coming from Julia, as it was her perfume. He could almost hear her heartbeat in sync with his, and his hand suddenly reached out and felt her own on her knees.

He opened his eyes to see her small smile.

"Why do you kiss me on the cheek?" he asked as suddenly as grasping her hand.

"Because, it's me showing that I'm flattered or touched by what you do" she said evenly. "The times I've done it, I've been made happier by your words or actions. Do you remember when I first did it?"

He nodded "When you realised you could walk without the cane?"

She shook her head "When I saw that _you_ tricked my subconscious into forgetting it. _You_ did that. I was glad to be rid of it, so I pecked you on the cheek. You made me happy."

Her words repeated themselves in the back of his mind for several seconds and his insides felt oddly warm, as if he were inflating or growing taller at her praise.

"I…made you…_happy_?" he asked weakly.

She nodded, smiling softly. "There's no need to sound so surprised. You make me smile don't you? You might annoy me sometimes, but even then I know that I'd happily put up with it."

He felt his eyes grow wet and realised with dawning panic and horror that they were filling with tears. But before he could collect himself, they spilled over and ran down his pale cheeks.

Her heart softened at the sight and automatically she reached forward and caught them with her fingers and wiped them away for him. When more followed, she grabbed some tissues out of her dressing gown pocket and wiped them away, just as easily.

Sherlock's incredible mind was whirling.

He felt her touch and leaned into it without knowing, closing his eyes when her warm hand touched his smooth cool skin on his cheek and released a long breath.

They were silent for a couple of minutes.

Then, she shuffled to the side, next to him against the pillows and leant her shoulder against his.

More warmth and the pleasant humming feeling came sweeping over him and he sat peacefully, immersed in it, smiling softly.

"Has nobody ever said that to you?" Julia asked kindly after a pause. "Has _nobody_ ever told you how important or special you might be to them? Your parents or your brother? Am I _honestly_, the only one?"

He nodded sadly, looking at her, probing her with his eyes. Her eyes, the shade of melting chocolate, gazed back at him, unflinching and not in pity either, which was a change. They were compassionate and a little sad in response.

"Can you show me what a real kiss is?" he asked after a minute's silence.

Julia blushed beetroot and cleared her throat. "Define, a '_real kiss'_, Sherlock."

"Like how they do in movies" he said. "When the two people who love each other do. Or can you not do that unless you're in love?"

"There are still loads you don't understand" she said aloud, shaking her head. Then she smiled and rested her head on his shoulder, inhaling a little.

Her touch was soothing and relaxing. He felt his body sag and without knowing, he put an arm around her and pulled her to him a little. She closed her eyes and sighed, sliding her head down to rest on his chest, lying down onto of the sheets. He copied her and flicked off the bedside light, kicked off his slippers and pulled the bed sheet from under them smoothly and threw it over them, encasing them in the warmth of their bodies, clothed in their nightwear once Sherlock had removed his blue dressing gown.

"Look at me" Julia whispered in the dark. He could see the outline of her face and peaked at her through the gloom.

"This is a peck like I normally give you" she said, and lent forwards and kissed his cheek as always. He felt the tingling of her lips on his skin and a shiver ran down his spine, something that had been (until now) un-noticed.

"_This_-" she said huskily, putting a soft hand on his left cheek "-is a '_real kiss'_."

He felt her shift closer until he felt her breath and the heaviness in the air now sparkled with chemistry and anticipation. He felt her hand stroke his cheek, and then her lips touched his.

His eyes closed without his command and his hold on her tightened.

He took a breath and leaned into her, instinctively moving his lips with hers, and felt her responding to his ministrations. His heart was hammering in his chest, his breath was harsh and the kiss became longer and greedier. Neither of them separated and Sherlock only clutched tighter onto the woman in his arms, cradling her to him and his mind had been switched off like a light.

All that mattered was that he kept on kissing her, to never release her and to caress her body in every way. He felt his legs tangle with hers, felt her hands move into his curls and massage the roots there. He heard himself let loose a soft moan, and heard her make several more, lower but meaningful moans as well, her lips becoming softer and softer, smoother and more intoxicating the longer he held on.

She was like a drug, a powerful and greedy drug that robbed him of his mind and ability to think coherently. So small, slender and soft and _warm_, the warmth was powerful and radiated to every part of his body.

Then, for the first time, he felt something between his legs stir. Julia moaned again, huskily and took another breath from him, and his nether regions tightened with the sound.

So _this_ was what she meant, what arousal was. He _never_ wanted to let her go.

But of course, he had to.

Slowly, they parted and she lent her forehead against his, breathing erratically.

They were both grinning in the dark together. Sherlock's arms were tight around her waist and muscular in the sense that she felt very safe within them.

"You know" he said, out of breath. "You stole my first kiss."

"You're a very good kisser then" she panted lightly. "That was more of a passionate snog than a kiss, Sherlock."

Rolling his eyes, he chuckled and let out a sigh.

"Sleep" he said, and just like that, they were both out within ten seconds.


	28. Chapter 28: Injury & Rings

**WARNING- Suggestion of Mild-Sexual Dreams  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Dr. Capt. <strong>**_Julia_**** H. Watson**  
><em>By Rurple101<em>

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><p><em>CHAPTER 28: Injury &amp; Rings<br>_

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><p>Ever since the incident of their briefly shared kiss in Sherlock's bedroom, both Julia and Sherlock had decided that it was best to not mention it at all, even to each other, and forgot it.<p>

For Julia, this was easier than she thought it would be, but it was Sherlock who struggled the most with this task.

For the entire week after her demonstration of a peck and '_a real kiss'_ he had been subconsciously watching and analysing Julia for changes in her behaviour. Surprisingly, she had picked up pace as normal, as if she and he had switched personalities.

Every time she came down in the mornings for breakfast, she was dressed either in her thin dressing gown or her pyjamas, of which were both quite revealing. However, Julia had long-accepted that Sherlock wasn't going to gape at her if she paraded around half-naked. She even believed that if she walked around naked, he still wouldn't notice her.

Yet for that first week, Sherlock stared and discreetly found his nether regions lusting over his flat-mate. His eyes always went from her perfectly clean and cut toenails and up her smooth and lusciously long tanned legs which bore some athletic signs from all the running around she did with Sherlock on cases.

Then his mind would dip into the gutter and imagine what it would be like to creep his hand under her dressing gown, and run his large hand up and down her lovely legs, caressing her backside and kissing her smooth lips whilst he did so, emitting soft groans from her mouth which was _his_ name…

He found himself flustered whenever his mind played these tricks on him even if they were too pleasant and seductive for their own good. He always had to fight a hidden impulse to grab her and once again, feel the pleasure of her mouth, her beautiful eyes, and her intoxicating scent of lavender…

After five days in a row with no cases, and her distraction, his subconscious surprised him by not prompting the images into his head. When, after a gruelling case which had lasted two days and nights, when he finally fell asleep, his dreams were full of Julia, _his Julie_, kissing and pleasuring him which led to him waking up halfway through the morning, crying out her name in heightened groans and whispers.

The dreams slowly became more and more erotic and more and more inviting. He found himself wanting to sleep to spend more time with his imaginary Julie, who would always be there beside him naked in his bed once his eyes closed and his subconscious took over him.

After ten days, he realised that when he saw the real Julia in the morning, innocently smiling and speaking to him, he saw it as a massive disappointment, even though he'd never acknowledged that he was attracted to her.

When he went to bed that night he shooed away the imaginary Julie who'd make him wake in fits of pleasure, and fully decided that if he ever wanted that kind of intimacy with any woman, it would be the _real_ Julia, who actually cared more for him than just sex.

It was weird to see this revelation laid to him.

On the odd night where his subconscious won and he would wake, with the sexually tingling in his body and the hormones racing up and down his system, he felt the guilt and disgust with himself. He told himself that it was because of the lack of sexual activity in his adolescent years which was the cause of all his erotic and sexual dreams involving his roommate.

Within two weeks, he had fought and locked away the erotic memories and increased amount of passionate feelings he held towards Julia into a cupboard in his mind and hidden the key from its reach. He regained his normal behaviour and Julia hadn't been any the wiser of what revelation or change in the detective that her kissing him had evoked.

He was somewhat glad and yet shamed that she didn't know that he'd pleasured over her, lusted for her body, but then he reassured himself that it was his _body_ and not _him_ that had done it. He blamed his body, and he had put the stopper on any loose sentiment and affection for Julia that might have elapsed from his dreams. They were locked away with the other dreams in his mind.

Within three weeks of Julia's demonstration, he'd deleted his internal struggle and was fully back to normal.

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><p>Julia had seem a little change in Sherlock's attitude after she'd kissed him, but it had only lasted a few days as that's until they had a case which drove it all from her mind.<p>

She would sometimes lie in bed and smile top herself at the memory but other than that, she knew that she'd never gain a relationship or anything more than innocent kisses from the consultant detective.

His mind was too professional and complicated to add the formula '_girlfriend'_ and '_Julie'_ together. She was just his flat-mate and doctor and that was that.

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><p>A few weeks later, Julia found herself oversleeping and running late behind her normal schedule, blaming Sherlock in the process.<p>

"_Sherlock_!" she called as she hurried down the stairs, staggering in her uncomfortable heels as she went.

Only, she misjudged a step halfway down her flight of stairs and her right ankle twisted.

Then, as the pain seared up her leg, she gasped and felt her hand ungrasp the banister and she tumbled down the remaining steps, closing her eyes and putting her head in her arms.

But then she felt herself caught and she looked up at Sherlock, who looked rather confused and bored all at once.

"I'd recommend not walking in _those_" he advised, nodding his head towards her heels, which had fallen off her feet and were on the first few steps.

She rolled her eyes and then Sherlock let her go once she got her footing.

She went to walk into the kitchen, but he grabbed her waist just in time for her to groan in pain as she stepped on her twisted foot. She caught his roll of the eyes and he half-helped her into the living area and sat her on the sofa.

He disappeared, walking up the stairs to her bedroom and returned less than a minute later with her trusty calf-boots and a pair of black socks.

"I trust these can match your outfit?" he asked, in a tone that suggested that he couldn't care less.

But the thought was what touched Julia most. She smiled warmly at him, nodding and pulled the socks on, wincing with her twisted ankle. He pushed her hands away as he knelt down in front of her, indicating that she should let him examine it.

The way his fingers delicately yet efficiently poked and moved her ankle and foot around reminded her of when she treated other patients, especially in Afghanistan.

A particular movement made her cry out in pain and Sherlock put his face closer, examining her injury.

"It's swollen slightly" he concluded. "Stay here."

He got up and went into the kitchen.

"Sherlock, I was an army-experienced doctor and I know how to treat a sprained ankle!" she said exasperatedly.

She heard his reverberating chuckle and she huffed, crossing her arms across her chest like a sulking child.

"But it's not sprained Julie, it's _twisted_" Sherlock said in his all-knowing tone as he returned, with a packet of painkillers and a glass of water as well as a bandage under his arm. He also had a packet of frozen peas from the freezer.

"Same difference" she sulked and he chuckled again.

He knelt down in front of her and pulled the coffee table closer to her and propped her bare foot on it, with the union jack cushion underneath.

"Take these and stop sulking" he commanded.

She opened the packet of paracetamol and swallowed two of them with a swig of water from the glass. Then she watched as Sherlock wrapped the tea towel round the peas and pressed it to her swollen ankle. She hissed as the cold hit her warm skin but after a while it made the area numb and she felt no pain.

Feeling a bit better, she watched intently as Sherlock withdrew the frozen peas and then started to wrap the bandage snugly around the area, but thankfully not as tight to make her foot turn red from restricted blood flow.

He then proceeded to take her sock and slid it onto her bandaged foot and ankle. Then he looked at her and asked "Do you need help with your boots?"

The boots were flat heeled, but also consisted of a long zip on the inner sides. She reached for her left boot to put on her uninjured ankle yet still couldn't put it on properly due to her awkward position on the sofa.

Sherlock rolled his eyes again and then quickly but gently tugged on her boot and then she zipped it up the rest of the way as he started to put the other boot onto her injured ankle. She winced twice as he accidently knocked his knuckles onto the ankle as he put her foot in the boot, but then managed to zip the rest of the boot up successfully.

He then got up, grabbed his scarf and coat, put them on, grabbed his phone and then turned to help lift her off the sofa into a standing position.

"You know you have to walk on it" he muttered when she hesitated on putting her bad foot down. She sighed heavily.

He smirked and grabbed her coat from the back of the door and handed it to her. She put it on.

"Where are we going?" she asked, curiously.

"The Yard" answered Sherlock "We have to start the marriage case today."

Her eyes narrowed in confusion.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and marched across the room to the bookcase where he removed a book and withdrew the small box that he'd given her on her birthday. He removed the wedding band and handed it to her, which she took. He then withdrew a similar one from his inner jacket pocket and slid it into place on his left ring finger.

She watched him do this and then examined her ring again.

It was simple yet it gave off an appearance of being rather expensive, as if it had been made specially.

Inside the band were words, which read; "_the very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly to your service"._

Julia was stunned that the entire quote could fit inside the band of the ring, but the text was miniscule and it was only because she had read _The Tempest_ that she recognised the quote from a few words. Seeing as they were posing as a marriage couple, she supposed it was relevant.

She sighed, and then slid the ring on her finger, and part of her wished that it had been put on her by Sherlock himself, but he was too busy checking his phone to notice her thoughts were elsewhere.

He looked up from her phone and pocketed it, walking towards her.

"Ready?"

She nodded once.

Then without warning, he scooped her up in his arms, and they were off down the stairs.

"_Sherlock_!" she squeaked indignantly.

"It's quicker to carry you rather than wait for you to tip toe down the stairs" he drawled in a bored tone as he half dropped her onto the ground level floor.

She stumbled and winced on her ankle. He sighed dramatically again and he offered her his arm which she gratefully took and opened the door.

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><p><strong><span>Author Note: <span>**

**As a treat to you, "_Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind" _is the engraving on Sherlock's ring. (from 'A Midsummer's Night Dream') **

**That can give you something to ponder over! ; ) **

**PS - I am aware that this story isn't pitch-perfect but this is a hobby and something I do to entertain myself. I'm glad that the majority of you enjoy this story :) **


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